When Autumn comes,

I am happy for many reasons, one of the main ones being that my children go to bed earlier.

Oh, joy.

Nights out for Andrew and me can begin sooner; nights in can be more leisurely and less half-asleep. That is, unless I find myself falling asleep in my pasta at six o'clock in the evening.

It's pitiful, I know. No one told me when we were starting our family how quickly we would begin to feel old. (I think it's probably because they themselves have forgotten or haven't realized it yet.)

So, along with my children going to bed earlier, I'll probably begin to turn in at or before nine each night m'self.

I know it's sad, but it's true.

Ninight.