For the first time in my life I now have an ensuite.
It's pretty fabulous when it comes to showering late at night, because it means I am no longer in danger of waking two sleeping children with clanking pipes and dodgy singing.
It's great when it comes to brushing my teeth in the morning because I can wander around the bedroom and fidget with my books and necklaces, or bounce up and down on the bed (something I tell my four year old you should never do when you have a toothbrush in your mouth).
But I have come to the conclusion that when it comes to the middle-of-the-night-pee, having an ensuite totally sucks.
Yes, the proximity is great. Yes, it's brilliant not having to run the gauntlet of creaky floorboards and run the risk of waking the entire household.
But at 3am the house is very quiet.
And three metres is not a very big distance.
And when you combine quiet house and short distance, you may as well be peeing on your husband's side table for all the good a hollow toilet door is.
So what do I do at 3am, when it is freezing and the Blonde Bombshell's ex-birthday balloons are popping downstairs and freaking me out completely? I walk to the downstairs bathroom and pee there.
Curse my early morning modesty.