It’s a Christmas miracle

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.