Bairbre Power: I froze as I recalled the time I royally insulted my own mother on the night of my 21st birthday. Good God, did I really say that?
I found myself at Dublin airport last weekend, waiting in the arrivals hall for a weary passenger - my son - who, unfortunately, had booked to fly home from Nice with Ryanair.
Despite the fact I was working late and the airport is a good 25-mile detour out of my way, I volunteered to collect him anyway.
That Irish Mammy DNA runs deep and anyway sometimes the opportunity to catch up with adult offspring who live out of town is just too much to resist.