I used to regard bed as a sacred place. But I don't get to lie in very much anymore, and while I appreciate my sleep, I get up more readily that I used to.

I've been having very vivid dreams of late too. Dreams so vivid that I actually remember them in the morning (although they're usually not so interesting in the cold light of day) and so involving that I often don't feel I've got much rest at all.

The other night I dreamed that I had been unfaithful to Sally and I was very relieved to wake up and discover that it wasn't true (I think that may have been self-preservation). But this morning Sally looked at me grumpily and said, You left me for someone else. She'd been dreaming too. Who? I asked, wondering how she'd managed to read my mind (albeit a day late) Barry she said (not his real name). Ah I said, well he does have his own pub.

Paddy is having bed adventures too. We dismantled the cot and painted and assembled his new big bed on Sunday. It's only new to him. Both Anna and Sally have slept in it before him. One more generation and it'll be an heirloom. He seemed pleased but there was obviously something bothering him about the new set up and as bed time approached he asked if his green blanket was for little boys. Ah. No Paddy, big boys in big beds can still have their green blanket.

Of course he fell out of it. Bad father. I was going to bed myself that evening (Sally was out) and as I was flossing my teeth there was an almighty crash and I rushed to rescue him (untangling myself from the dental floss). I had feared that his shelves had collapsed on him, but I found him sitting in a pile of Duplo, shocked, but unharmed. He'd caught the box as he tumbled out and pulled it down with him. He got into bed with me for a while and then when I went to turn out the light I put him back into his bed with one side of the dismantled cot as a barrier to keep him safe.

The next morning I was woken by Anna climbing into bed beside me. What's up? I asked. I fell out of bed she said.

'Tis catching.