I have vivid memories of, as an eight-year-old, heading through to my gran’s house on Hogmanay and being packed off to bed just as the party got going.
I remember staying awake as long as I could listening to the piano-playing and accompanying singing, which grew progressively louder as the evening wore on.
There is no doubt that a great time was had by all and I longed for the day when I would be able to join in the revelry.
Fast forward the best part of of 40 years to Hogmanay 2014 and the scene in the Hume household was certainly not how I imagined it would be.
Once again I was tucked up in bed before midnight, only this time it was my choice, there was no party going on downstairs and it took the sound of distant fireworks to alert me to the fact that the new year had arrived.
Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a party as much as the next man but, now with a young son of my own, a good night’s sleep was more appealing!