RICHARD IRVINE

DOUBLE TROUBLE FOR A FIRST TIME DAD OF TWINS

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The 'Christmas do' for me was something to be treasured, a night of wild cliché-laden freedom.

I'd highlight areas the business was failing to the managing editor, while he was trying to leave, perform 'comedy' dance routines, and chat to random people from other departments about how working here wasn't as good as it used to be.

Invariably, I'd end the night at a fast-food establishment eating chips, while trying to track down a taxi, thinking I wasn't even drunk, while looking like someone who'd woken up on a pub floor.

The next day was a disaster of regret. You'd spent too much, said far too much and wondered whether the chat with management could result in a formal warning.