Strictly's strength is its appeal to all the family. The greatest compliment I was paid during my stint was from a lady at Paddington station who told me that every time the programme came on her four-year-old son would demand: 'Where's that granny, Mummy? I want the granny to win.'
I look at being an actress as being like a mummy: You're bandaged up and preserved as soon as you start making other people money.
Christmas Day itself hasn't always been great. My parents went abroad when I was very young, and I went to boarding school. We had a few Christmases before that - I remember a big sack of presents and Mummy cooking goose.
My children know not to shout before Mummy has warmed herself into something human with her coffee.
The radiation was worse by far. I had bandages all over my head. I looked like a mummy. On the side of my head and neck and down to my collarbone, I had second-degree burns. My skin blistered and peeled before it grew back. That was the worst part of it.
I mean, it was a mummy movie. It was a good film independent of its source. It that looks like Lawrence of Arabia on steroids in a lot of ways.
When my children say, 'In the future, Mummy, will things get better or worse for humanity?' I say: 'Who knows, since Amy Winehouse died. It's all in the air now. Eat your broccoli.'
Zombies, mummies - they're disgusting and gross. You don't want to make out with a mummy. At least, I don't.
Mummy always wanted the five children, and she knew she couldn't look after them all because she was this absolutely glorious woman who loved going to parties and going to the races, and she just didn't have time.
I probably give 80% more to my children than my father gave to me and still it doesn't come up to scratch. I don't feel guilty about it. Do my children love me? I think that is self-evident. Will they have psychological scars? No, because they have a wonderful mummy.
