If you had asked me when I was 28 and in my wedding dress if I ever thought I would end up in my forties flipping my husband the bird over potato chips, I'd say you were crazy.

The man you married is yours to have and to hold for the rest of ever, even if he starts chewing tobacco or decides to pierce his hairy nipple and buy a Corvette, because you very plainly said - or at least implied - you were in it for better or for worse.

If I were to say you are crazy, what part of that would you find unacceptable?

They asked me to write it and zoomed me over there to do it. But they ended up sacking me.

When you're pregnant, you go out and buy every single book; you have this stack of books on your nightstand, but there was nothing that was preparing me for anything even remotely resembling what my life was going to look like.

As a teenager I went all Goth, but I wasn't mopey enough. I would pretend to be, but I'd end up making people laugh.