Votes for women may breed the mother of political convention

WHEN the national broadcasting station — in the days when there was only one national broadcasting station — sent out an invitation for families to compete in a quiz programme, I entered our family in the contest.

We won for 13 straight weeks. We were The Prones of Clontarf and were briefly famous, despite my sister’s gaffe when she was asked the difference between an antiseptic and a disinfectant.

“An antiseptic heals wounds,” she said crisply. “And a disinfectant prevents wounds.”