As I cwtched a sobbing little boy at the end of Doctor Who this evening, he looked up, tears streaming down his face (mingling with the type of snot only small children can produce) and said:

“But its so sad, Mummy.  The Doctor is always going to be on his own..”

All I remember from watching Doctor Who in the seventies is dodgy scenery and hiding behind the sofa when the Daleks came on.  Nothing as profound as seeing the real plot on which each story is based after only watching one series.

My child.  The genius.

Or, more likely.

My child.  The geek…