My family had a daylight savings ritual we followed for a number of years: my father would take me and my brother out to a local hockey game, to watch the farm teams duke it out on the ice. If this sounds like modest fun, bear in mind we all had to be in church the next morning.
I was thinking about this last night as I drove my wife and daughters home from a family do. The girls were fighting sleep. I glanced at the clock on the dash -- 7:42, 7:46, 7:49, etc. The minutes were as painful for me as they were for my girls. At this rate, I figured I could just about count on a very early wake-up. Somehow we covered the right conversational material to keep them awake until we got home, but the sanity of my father's tactic became impressively clear.