Laying beneath my Christmas tree and swathed in an enormous red fleece blanket, Peaches had appeared almost magically in my den in the wee morning hours of the Saturday before Christmas. She had been lying in wait to surprise me. It worked. I was reduced to a heap of pre-adolescent glee.

"Get in here and warm me up would you?!" She giggled as I skidded across the slippery hardwood floor in my socks. "I don't think you guys actually heat your downstairs at night."

I wriggled beneath the blanket and came up next to her. "We turn down the heat. Timer. Sorry." I explained, as I pressed against her under...