When I was about 19 I think, there was a huntsman on the ceiling in my room. I used to be ok with that. One night I walked into my room in the dark, and a moth that was flying around hit me in the head. I did not know it was a moth, and I’m ashamed to say I screamed like a girl.

Mike my brother managed to roll out that story (and a few others if I recall correctly) when all the family were together for Christmas last year. More than ten years later, I got to feel stupid all over again.

Clearly every time I pounded him when we were young is going to come back on me as an embarrassing story…