Betty Brisk meets: Debra Stephenson

Each week Betty, The Sun's official nosy parker, interrogates a celebrity on matters of world importance.

Here DJ CHRISTIAN O'CONNELL reveals he cries over cake, longs for comfy shoes and why he daren't argue with his wife.

IT'S been nagging me all day and now I've got it. You look like Anton du Beke – without the cheesy grin obviously, and with better hair. What do you reckon?

It's a huge compliment, he's such a pin-up. The other one I get is Stephen Mangan. Once on holiday someone was so convinced that I was Mangan, they said: "Would it kill you just to pose for a photo?"

So I had to go along with it just to keep this guy happy. I am formally apologising to Stephen Mangan here in The Sun.

Do you think Anton du Beke gets recognised for me?

Anton is well into his forties, while you're just teetering on the brink. How will you face up to turning 40?

I will embrace it. Men don't handle it well . . . it's always some guy who either starts shagging his PA or tracks down an old ex on Facebook.

I'm not saying I'm going to embrace all of that but I'm looking forward to more comfortable shoes. Maybe one of those car seat bead covers behind your back too.

Are you showing any signs of middle age yet? You know, a sort of an urge to wear comfy slacks, saying, "Aaah" when you sit down and "Oof" when you stand up again?

You do start looking for comfort wherever possible. Sadly, if you get a rare chance to go out to the pub you become obsessed with, "There's a table over there, let's just wait here until it's free and then grab it."

Are you getting sentimental? I gather you had a "moment" while watching The Great British Bake Off recently.

Someone's cake collapsed and I was in bits. During Downton Abbey I got a bit tearful and there was this advert for St John Ambulance and I started crying at that. It's ridiculous. I think it's a coming-of-age thing when you start to realise what life's about.

That and maybe I've been drinking too much red wine. Or not enough.

You're quite brave on air with your listeners and yet at home you're not keen on arguments. Is that because your wife Sarah is so much better at it than you are?

It's not that I fear arguments, it's just that my wife was a lawyer, so can cross-examine me and tear me to shreds.

She's now retraining to be a psychotherapist. So I'm screwed basically.

I gather she went out for the day recently and you complained because she called home three times to check up on you. Is that because you're likely to break something, use the wrong sponge, open a fresh pint of milk when there's already one on the go? Seems fair to me. What's your beef?

To put that fairly, it was three times an hour and then texts when it wasn't calls.

I think most women think when their man is left alone they revert to being un-housetrained and she was worried I might do some damage.

Plus I was in charge of two kids. Or they were in charge of me, I'm not sure which way it was.

Both you and Mr Brisk daydream at dinner parties. It's embarrassing. What's going on there?

It's quite simple, we're weighing up and trying to work out the problems of the world.

I'm sorry if that means we can't eavesdrop on your scintillating chitchat about an amazing dream you had last night but, you know, we're worried about the global situation, the economic meltdown.

We're working it all out. That, and just simply staring into space.

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