It's the silliness--the profligacy, and the silliness--that's so dizzying: a seven-year-old will run downstairs, kiss you hard, and then run back upstairs again, all in less than 30 seconds. It's as urgent an item on their daily agenda as eating or singing. It's like being mugged by Cupid.

You think it doesn't really matter if you screw up this time around because you can just sort it all out in paradise

I've generally got low levels of embarrassment.

Feminism, as it stands, well... stands. It has ground to a halt.

I was brought up in a kind of, you know, very hippie, liberal family. And it was just always automatically assumed that men and women were equal and indeed superior.

I love puffins. They are small, round gothic birds, and their babies are called pufflings.

I could have written a misery memoir and instead I tried to make it funny. I never complained.