My seven-year-old son hammers me with all sorts of quandaries, queries and conundrums, from dawn to dusk

There is a host of football-themed programming airing at sensible times, just to get you in the mood

In the final of our family tournament, it is - inevitably - me versus him. He, cocky and self-delighted. Me, imperious and calm

Shergar: The Racehorse and the IRA attempts to fill the gaps in my knowledge of this most famous case

This enjoyment must arise from gut-level narcissism, the kind that might compel someone to write books or columns for a living

A video search history is no idle plaything, but a deep and probing X-ray of one’s soul

A skin infection, rejection from nursery, a bit of light shoplifting, and to top the day off, a not-entirely-glowing review of my new book

None of the responsible, loving, joyous acts you carry out as a dad soothe you very much on those occasions you mess up

It appears there’s quite strong proof that having children does not, in any measurable way, make you more happy