For the first time in living memory, we’ve gone to bed before midnight TWO NIGHTS IN A ROW while staying with John’s family. Tonight, we all have hours and hours in which to dream of sugar plum fairies (or David Tennant – whatever floats your boat). Molly is a college student who has to be dragged from her bed in the morning now, not the five-year-old who woke me up with hilariously frantic whispers at 6am that first Christmas morning. Aging. It’s a wonderful thing. To a point.