A RANDOMLY social weekend kept me away from the main shows this weekend.

So I didn’t see the Voice, or the Greatest Dancer as it headed into live shows.

I haven’t even had a chance to catch up on Call the Midwife.

I know, I was actually out on a Sunday night.

Now I’m not really sure if I will - I am already a couple of episodes behind - It is such a Sunday night show, watching it at any other time seems a bit weird.

I still can’t get used to them putting on Cold Feet on a Monday.

If it was me I would put that thing about the vicar who solves crimes, not Father Brown, the other one with Robson Green in, on at the start of the week and save the escapades of the Manchester pals for a Friday.

But at least we get six or eight episodes back to back and we know where we stand.

Many American shows have this odd mid-season finale, then they disappear and come back about six weeks later.

It’s not a new season, it is the second half of the existing one.

But that is exactly what it feels like.

Everything was sailing along smoothly with the second series of the Good Doctor on Sky Witness until just before Christmas when there was a lockdown because of a scarily contagious disease.

We left poor old Dr Shaun trying to get a grip and save various peeps including the son of another doctor who was having an asthma attack.

Then nothing because it went on its “mid-season break” and then returned this week when it is no longer Christmas in the real world, however it was on the show.

If they have already completed an entire season, why do they split it like this ?

We also get this episode a week nonsense on Netflix for shows which are being shown in America at the same time.

In a culture of viewing where we like to watch an entire series in a televisual binge this is just confusing.

I am dreading the daughter getting up to date on Riverdale soon having blazed through the first two series in record speed.

Although I am slightly concerned watching things like that will give her the opinion all teenagers lead somewhat autonomous lives with the adults in the background just mucking everything up.

In Riverdale, the kids are all just so emotionally mature and the adults, not so much.

The younger characters pretty much appear to spend most of the time sorting out the mess made by their parents.

Who are all very rich and clueless.

And, to continue a point I touched upon a few weeks back, it just really makes me feel old.

I could cope with spotting Luke Perry, for anyone who was a teen in the 1990s he was Dylan in the seminal drama Beverley Hills 90210, as one of those clueless adults.

And then Molly Ringwald turned up as his estranged wife !

My daughter was non-plussed at my excitement at spotting Molly, still working, but so much older than when she was a huge star in the 1980s.

How we swooned as she was swept of her feet by rich, good looking Andrew McCarthy whilst still staying true to herself in Pretty in Pink.

And managed to tame the unruly Judd Nelson in the Breakfast Club.

Neither of those films particularly impressed my daughter though.

I swiftly found myself watching them alone.