The Diary was ribbed mercilessly at school on account of the labels sewn into its clothes by Old Ma Diary, who was never convinced her offspring could survive a day without losing a coat, jumper or, worse still, some underwear.
But, like mothers the world over, she had a point, and it was neatly illustrated – in albeit slightly different circumstances to those at school – on a recent iD staff outing to Dublin.
The experiential marketing company took 45 of their staff to the Emerald Isle to sample the local culture – otherwise known as Guinness.
After a heavy night on the black stuff, which was rounded off with some fancy table dancing from the directors – and no doubt a charming and understated rendition of “Danny Boy” – the posse headed for their hotel, only for one of the party to realise the next morning that she had lost her passport.
Fortunately, the hotel received a phonecall from someone, appropriately called Paddy, who had found said passport in one of Dublin’s streets broad and narrow.
How did he know where to call? Inside her passport was the sticker everyone at iD had been given before they left the UK which said: “If found face-down dribbling uncontrollably, please return me to Jurys Croke Park Hotel, Croke Park, Dublin.”
Mother really does know best.