We went to bed at midnight last night.

Bethan had been pestering us quite relentlessly - refusing to go to sleep and coming downstairs for spurious reasons every half-hour.

Now, my longer-term readers may recall some consternation I had over her skill at tuning the TV in her room a while back.

Guess what she was watching when we looked into her room at midnight?

That's right, she was watching The frigging Fog!

So, now guess what happened when I turned it off.

That's right, she said "Don't!"

For a full ten points, try and guess what kind of sleep she got afterwards.

Correctamundo.

Nightmares.

At least until 4am when I gave in and let her sleep in with me for a couple of hours.

In all, I got two hours sleep. To be honest, that's about the average.

On the upside, I've just questioned her about watching TV at night - she says she won't be doing it again. No shit!

In other news, Allison's been down in the dumps all weekend, I've got agonising indigestion and a driving lesson at midday and Charlie's gone back to bed till half ten.

So all is joy and rapture chez Hedgey.

Oh yeah, and if I'm left alone for a few minutes in the depths of night some time soon (which doesn't seem particularly likely), I might just try and prepare for NaNoWriMo. If not, I'll just have to wing it and either call it Lit Fic or a Kerouac-esque stream of consciousness, or a compilation of whatever 2000 word story I can dream up during each day.