Ross O'carroll-kelly @ The Irish Times

So – yeah, no – the girls have been working unbelievably hord in training, which is why I’ve arranged a little surprise for them. I tell them to meet me in the school cor pork, where the bus is already waiting with the engine idling. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

“Oh my God,” Honor goes, “you’re not actually wearing that, are you?”And by that she means my black, Canterbury elite protection body ormour vest. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

I go, “Twas the week before Sixmas, and all through the class, nothing was stirring, not even a mouse!” Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

So – yeah, no – I’m in Cinnamon in Monkstown, getting all excited about Sixmas, which is only, like, two weeks away now. I’m writing out my storting 15 for the match against Wales into the famous Big Book when I notice a woman staring at me over the top of her Watermelon Shhuga. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

They stagger out onto the pitch in two or three different huddles, their orms folded against the cold of a horrible January morning.I’m there, “Welcome back, ladies! Hope you had a good Christmas!” and they’re all, like, hating on me for my – yeah, no – cheeriness?With any subscription you'll get unlimited access to the very best in unique quality journalism from The Irish Times. Subscribe today. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

No less a judge than the great Jerry Flannery once described me as “one of Ireland’s greatest thinkers” – and even though it was in the course of a Charity Roast in the Sin Bin in Limerick, I think his point still stands... Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

The old dear is drinking a Baileys with her dental plate out and I don’t think I’ll ever have another amorous thought in my life. The old man raises his brandy glass to me and goes, “Merry Christmas, Ross.” Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

So I’m standing at the trough in The Queens in Dalkey, having a much-needed slash, when I hear a voice beside me go, “Is that the famous Ross O’Carroll-Kelly I see?” Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

The Castlerock College Christmas Fete has always been a massive event in the O’Carroll-Kelly social calendar. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

“Corlow?” Sorcha goes – clearly worried about me. “Why on earth do you want to drive all the way Corlow for a Christmas tree when we can buy one three minutes up the road in Terenure College?” Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Hey, as I always say, it’s better to be someone’s shot of tequila than everyone’s cup of tea. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

So – yeah, no – I’m in, like, the gorden, throwing the old Gilbert around with Brian, Johnny and Leo, except we can’t complete three passes without one of us dropping the ball and I’m wondering does it have anything to do with us living in Terenure now – as in, the general sense of failure that hangs over the place has somehow seeped into my children’s bones like arthritis. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

The school concert hall is absolutely rammers and the walls are pretty much vibrating with the sound of people being – as we say on this side of the city – up in orms. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Anyone who follows the Letters to the Editor page in this newspaper will be aware of my old man’s thoughts on the subject of girls slash women playing rugby.  Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

I end up pretty much not sleeping for, like, five nights straight. And I know Honor is exactly the same. I’m there, “Can you just explain to me again what you saw and heard — illegibly.” “There’s no illegibly about it,” Sorcha goes. “I saw the ghost of an old man.” Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

She’s quiet, cranky and liable to explode in a rage at the least provocation. Mind you, she’s been like that since she emerged from her old dear’s womb with her two middle fingers raised to the world. It’s just that for the first time ever, she seems without – I don’t know – hope. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

“Ross O’Carroll-Kelly!” a voice behind me goes. “It is you, isn’t it?” Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Sorcha is unpacking her collection of Lladro figurines from a cordboard box. She says she’s worried about Honor.I’m like, “Honor? In terms of what specifically?” Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

So I’m in, like, Dundrum Town Centre with Honor and we’re racing for the lift slash elevator before the doors close. There’s, like, eight or nine people in there and they all do that thing that I always do when I’m in a lift slash elevator and someone is rushing for it. They all pretend they can’t see us, while one of them — some random old dude? — makes a movement like he’s looking for the hold doors button but he does it in, like, slow motion. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Claire from Bray of all places says the miniature Scotch eggs are – oh my God – divine? Sorcha says the secret is to fold some Worcestershire sauce and Tabasco into the pork mince before deep-frying the things in 100 per cent corn oil. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.