Well, 3:03am to be exact. I was awoken from a troubling dream about Douglas Carswell complaining about a pontoon bridge. Scary stuff.
It was our 7-year-old daughter, calling from her room next door. I went through to see what the problem was.
“Well, there are three things actually, Daddy.”
I raised an eyebrow in the near darkness.
“Firstly, I had a bad dream,”
Well, as you’ll just have read above, I knew all about that. I chose not to ask if Douglas was involved in her nightmares as well. I simply didn’t want to know.
“Oh dear, but it’s gone now you’re awake. What else?”
“I need to go to the loo, and also, I’ve been time-travelling.”
At this point, she indicated her clock, which said 3:03.
“Before, it said 3:37. Now it says 3:03. So I’ve been time-travelling.”
Kids, hey? They’re nuts. But it was the middle of the night and I needed to get back to the House of Commons.
I took her to the loo, and then tucked her back into bed at exactly 2:58am.
Hang on a second…