When I was growing up, we didn’t have reality TV. We had the Golden Girls.

I am fully aware of how lucky that makes me.

I know that I’ve said, fairly recently, that you can tell how well you’re going to get along with somebody by asking which character they would be in Wind in the Willows.

I am Badger.

There is no question.

I am Badger.

Toad would drive me completely insane. Mole would irritate me quite quickly. I’d have time for Ratty. Arguably, I’d be best off with someone who sits somewhere between Ratty… and another Badger.

An alternative to the Wind in the Willows analogy, which works just as well, is the Golden Girls.

If I do say so myself, I have my Blanche moments – outrageous flirting, tall tales, accent.


However, there is little question – most of the time, I’m Dorothy. Principled, fierce friend, funny, rude.


I could never be Rose. She’s a delight, innocent, sweethearted, endlessly kind. I love Rose, I really do, but I think being that nice to everyone would land me in hospital.


In terms of Sophia, Dorothy’s mother – small, no filter, good advice, “Picture it…” stories.


I have a feeling, given time, I might be more like Sophia. I hope so.