Did you notice that North Korean crackpot dictator Kim Jong-un unveiled his daughter to the world for the first time the other day? Like all doting faithers, he took her along to the testing of one of his cute long-range ballistic missiles.
Here in Glasgow, meanwhile, I’ve been parading my newly born second son around the local parish. While I stopped short of coochie-cooing him in front of a terrifying nuclear arsenal – I’ve actually stored my weapons of mass destruction away for the winter alongside the Dahlia tubers – he did get a brief glimpse of something arguably more devastating. Yes, that’s right, he watched the agonies of his dad chiselling out the Tuesday column. The poor mite will be scarred for life.
