Roddy Doyle's Charlie Savage: Conscience is the voice of the soul - and the daughter
The daughter's an amazing young one, really. I mean, all the kids and grandkids are amazing. It's the only proper way to look at them.
I remember years ago, one of the sons broke one of the neighbours' windows. The neighbour, Typhoid Mary, came charging in and she walloped me with her zimmer when I opened the door.
I sorted the glass and put it in, myself. I was up on the ladder; it was a God-awful windy day; I was hoping the putty would be as handy to use as it looked, and I was trying not to look too carefully into Mary's bathroom, especially at the seal in the bath - I swear to God - staring back out at me. But all I could think was: "Jesus, that child's aim is brilliant."