I discovered this week the age of one of my youngest readers. She's the daughter of a friend, 10-year-old Annie Fox-McGlone, from Carrickmore.
My friend told me that every Saturday, after he's finished my column, Annie habitually picks up the paper and begins reading it herself.
Her studious concentration is only interrupted when asking Daddy the meaning of a word; he's admitted to occasionally also being stumped.
One week, having needed to make more than the usual amount of word queries, Annie solemnly laid down the paper saying, "You know Daddy, I don't think Jake knows that I read this."
As I'm sure you'll be reading this Annie, I admit you're right, and I apologise. Yet, as a pupil in an Irish-medium school, you'll know many more words in Irish than I do in English, and of that I'm greatly ashamed.
To make amends, I thought this week that I'd try and explain what's going on politically, in a way you will understand.
So, I'll begin by saying there's a big school just outside Belfast, called the Assembly. It's an unusual school as its pupils are supposed to be learning how to make rules to make all our lives better.
Because their work is so important, the pupils are given much more pocket money than ordinary boys and girls; even so, they nearly always fail to do their homework.
I know, Annie, that being off school for months during the pandemic felt an awfully long time; well, before that, the boys and girls in the Assembly were off for three years.
And would you believe it, even though they didn't do their homework they still got their pocket money. I know Annie, I thought that was very unfair as well.
The problem with the Assembly is there are two gangs - one called unionists, the other republicans - and they just can't seem to get along.
Their headmaster is called Boris; he's a very naughty man who tells fibs and says silly things which annoys people, but he doesn't care as he's very selfish.
For a while, the unionists thought they were Boris's pet, but he was only pretending he liked them and now they feel rejected. So, when he broke a promise he had made to them and brought in a new school rule called the Protocol, they became very angry.
Nobody in the school likes the Protocol but to get rid of it would create even more problems. And so, the unionists have stamped their feet and decided they no longer want to play and have gone home in a huff. With almost half the school not attending, this means the Assembly may close yet again.
The other students are naturally very disappointed but what can they do? Boris the headmaster doesn't care as he's now told so many fibs and said so many silly things, he hasn't time to watch over the school, and is afraid he may soon lose his own job.
And would you believe it, Annie, even though they've messed up yet again, all the boys and girls will still be getting their pocket money? I know, that's the only rule they've made which they've all agreed on.
I hope this doesn't put you off politics Annie, as it's very important. It's the best way we've found to make sure everyone has a fair chance to live safe, healthy and happy lives.
I'm certain when you're old enough to vote many of the stupid old rules will be gone, and you'll feel accepted.
Hopefully by then, the fact you're a Gaeilgeoir will not be seen as a problem but instead appreciated as a wonderful gift.
Hopefully, the boys and girls in the Assembly will have become more mature and learnt that more unites than divides them. Hopefully they will have adopted the rules of mutual respect and no bullying that operates in all our schools.
Most of all Annie, I hope you never experience the childhood I had and that you never join a gang but have friends from many different faiths, races and cultures.
And some day Annie, a long time from now, when you're a very old lady, you'll tell your great-grandchildren how silly the politicians were when you were a girl, and you'll teach them to embrace rather than fear difference.
Continue to study hard, and who knows you may end up not just reading but also writing for the Irish News, and I look forward to reading what you'll write.
Your daddy's friend, Jake.
