What’s your Sunday morning routine? The same as every day, but it happens 45 minutes later: walk, breakfast, coffee, papers. Otherwise, mornings are rarely the same. With lots of sport happening, I could be waking up in the city I’m presenting from. Do you work? Quite a lot, I enjoy the variety. But after the 2012 Olympics I totted up that in that year I’d worked 47 out of 52 Sundays. That’s why I turned down the presenting gig for Match of the Day Two: I’d have got home at 3am every week, missing all sorts of work and pleasure for a whole season. A special Sunday? July 2013, Andy Murray winning Wimbledon. We had tickets to the final, but my husband couldn’t make it, so I took my eight-year-old son instead. It was special, being there with him for something so historic, although he was outraged by the woman in front playing Candy Crush the whole way through. What makes you happy? Seeing my children play sports is one of my great joys; rain or shine, win or lose, it’s a high of motherhood. And dressing up to go to a big, boozy party. I’ll take anything at this point: birthdays, Christenings, weddings… Honestly, if anyone has a space going at their bash, I’ll happily come along. Sundays growing up? I’d wake Mum up with coffee at dawn, begging for a lift to gymnastics. She and Dad were real Saturday-night goer-outers; I’d almost have to dress her. We’d have a roast when I got home, until one day – midway through, fed up with cooking – Mum downed tools and vowed to never do one again. And Sunday evening? I try to cook just one meal on a Sunday – ‘linner’, which I love: we can sit and luxuriate in the nothingness of chitter chatter for that little bit longer. After 6pm things get busy again: kits in wash, have you done all your work yet? We have an unspoken rule: by 9pm we all sit down in front of the TV together. It’s a punctuation mark to end the week.