117 Sleeps ...

It's easy to forget that when you're small it's the big things that mark the passage of time rather than the little ones.

My daughter's understanding of the movements of the clock is slippery at the best of ... well, times. She understands the days of the week but not the length of time that constitutes, say, an hour. So when it comes to looking forward, it makes sense that she'd stick with what she knows.

My little girl's birthday was two weeks ago. This morning I found her, head thrust into the DVD cabinet, scrabbling around for buried treasures like a pig after truffles. When she eventually emerged, all grins and excitement, it was with a selection of discs that included Robbie The Reindeer, A Muppet Christmas Carol and It's a Hi-5 Christmas.

Several hours of unseasonal festive frolics later and it's not just the halls that are in danger of being decked.

Still, something like that subtly changes your perspective. You catch yourself looking back to January when you were wandering though the supermarket, goggling in disbelief that the Easter Eggs were already on display, and suddenly it all makes sense. The people responsible for what goes on the shelves and when are actually very, very clever.

Or they've all got the mentality of five-year-olds. You pick.