I Owe You One: The Number One Sunday Times Bestseller

I just feel kind of rueful. Because how much of my life have I spent comparing myself to Jake? And how utterly pointless was that?

So instead I’m zapping her lots of smiley faces and emojis of shiny suns and sailboats, and dodging the truth altogether. (Maybe that’s what emojis were invented for in the first place, and I’ve just been using them wrong. They’re not there to convey thoughts in a fun way, they’re there to lie to your mum.

Because that way I feel like I’m in control of something, even if it’s just my own story.

As if I was a juice fast, or a series of TED talks.

And I’ve got here early because … Well. Just to watch and enjoy.

has decided to bring up her children as Danish–French hybrids. Apparently then they’ll be super-relaxed, stylish and eat their vegetables. (I said once, ‘Why not bring them up British?’ and she stared at me and said ‘

Poor legs. I send them a quick message, saying, Do this for me and we’ll have a hot bath later.

For about the hundredth time I wonder if we could send Greg on a course. A course on Not Being Greg.

But I think you need to start thinking less about what you owe other people and more about what you owe yourself.’