My Uncle Maurice collects moustaches. Yes moustaches. Fake ones of course – it would be nigh on impossible to cultivate a variety of real upper-lip accessories on his very face, …

Tummy all bibbly and quibbly?
Noggin so distracted you can’t remember whether your socks go on your feet or in the fruit bowl?
Peepers locked on your phone so firmly …

If it weren’t for the fact I don’t have wispy grey hair and a voice so smooth and comforting it’s a wonder they’ve not named a chocolate after it, you’d …

Being ‘Queen of the Cillas’ (i.e. I bloomin’ love match-making) you would think that I’d enjoy being set-up myself. Well, my flirt-flavoured fizz-bombs, brace yourself for wrongness.
Ok ok, ‘total …

“Well would you just lookee-here. It’s you again!
Gosh, don’t you look well! How are you? How’s your Mum? Have you managed to sort out that unseemly in-growing hair since …