If I was to start this piece with, 'Isn't it well for ye, sitting there reading this'; or 'Those biscuits were for the visitors'; or 'The dead arose and appeared to many', you'd assume that I was a mammy. An Irish mammy.
Because those are the type of things that our mammies said to us. And though I am a mammy, and Irish, I'm not of the generation that persistently reminded us that they weren't running a taxi service.
And so Tara Flynn has written 'You're Grand. The Irishwoman's Secret Guide to Life' for the younger mammies - the iMoms and non iMoms of today, who, by the way, are perceived as only having sex for intimacy and pleasure, heaven forbid.
All Irish women are presumed to have been reared a long way from things such as the Blackrock Clinic, mani-pedis and brunches.
Our standard answer to a compliment is, 'I got it in Penneys'.
There's advice on how to become famous as a woman - win the Young Scientist competition or become president. Advice on dealing with hangovers (soakage) and how to be a "great burd".
There's the real housewives of the Blaskets, the stereotypes we like (we're all superstitious, touch wood), the ones we don't (we're all religious) and the rules of an Irish wedding - invite everyone; it's not your day, it's theirs.
And there's a chapter on 'grand sex'. There are variations on grand, by the way, such as 'feck it'. As in, when dumped. 'Ah sure feck it, there's plenty more eejit fish in the sea.' There's also advice on what's 'bold' versus what's 'bad'.
As in breaking bold. Flirting is 'bold'. Flirting with your pal's fella, 'bad'.
'You're Grand. The Irishwoman's Secret Guide to life' by Tara Flynn is in bookshops now.