I was quietly chuffed this week, after being quoted in The Scotsman as part of the debate over Fred the Shred’s long overdue decision to hand back part of his pension.
Reporter Martyn McLaughlin was gathering the viewpoint from PR experts – and it seems I qualify as co-founder of Holyrood Partnership PR in Edinburgh. Which is nice. Almost as nice as being on the same bill as Max Clifford since – love him or loathe him – he is a PR colossus.
However, any overweening pride was easily held in check, as I was comfortably eclipsed by the womenfolk of the Douglas family.
Exactly a week ago today I was tweeting and twittering away from my daughter’s school sports day, reporting how she came last more than once. Poor wee mite put everything she’s got into each event but isn’t blessed as an athlete.
However, she more than made up for it with this week’s Primary Two report card – the detailed assessment of how she has fared and developed over the past year.
Without going into all the academic whys and wherefores, suffice to say she is well-adjusted kid who puts enthusiastic effort into everything she does – and you can’t ask much more from a six-year-old, so I was bursting with pride.
Meanwhile my mother was also excelling herself. A few years ago she set about learning to drive. Somewhere in the intervening period she qualified for a free bus pass, but despite sitting her test repeatedly, seemed destined never to qualify for her driving licence.
But she’s pretty indomitable when she puts her mind to it. Sure enough, earlier this week, she finally passed her test at the fifth time of asking. Another proud moment.
What can I say? It’s all in the genes.