Friday, 9 December 2011

The Spirit of Christmas


I have FINISHED Christmas shopping *sags on sofa, sighs, reaches for gin* ..... well, probably, possibly, maybe but hopefully. 

Though at roughly 3am on Christmas Day morning when I'm STILL wrapping away (inbetween glugs and curses) I WILL remember something that I have forgotten to get.

Of course, it'll be the thing that Teen Twin Two asked for six months ago as the ONLY thing that she wanted for Christmas and has never, ever mentioned since - not even on the two sheets of A4 that she filled in and said was a Letter to Santa but was mostly just a list of demands. She WILL remember about 3pm on Christmas Day and then spend the rest of the festive season threatening to call Childline and accusing me of neglect. Ahh, traditions.

And Christmas is ALL about tradition, though not necessarily traditional traditions. WE don't get the tree until December 23rd mainly because; Official Excuse: The Twin's birthday is on the 22nd ("Let's get that out of the way first FFS") but REALLY because I think Christmas should stay where it belongs and not spread itself around too much *Bah humbug face.*

Traditionally we ALWAYS get a ridiculously expensive turkey from the same farm where, apart from feeding their birds diamonds and sapphires in a suite with a hot tub, they crack the same joke absolutely EVERY single year when you arrive to collect the over-pampered bird: "Uh oh, I can't seem to find your order," the Ruddy Faced Farmer joshes and Oh. How. We. Laugh. Every. Single. Year. *weak smile*

But at least it's not frozen, so the traditional getting up a 3am to run a huge bird under a hot tap is sadly lacking. What? Oh. Just my mum then ...

And traditionally the Christmas Eve carols are "Get to Bed," "Santa Won't Come If You're Not Asleep" and "Don't Come In" (falsetto). 

I, traditionally of course, wrap presents and IT DOESN'T MATTER if I start wrapping them in September, come Christmas Eve I will be up until the early hours of Christmas Day wrapping stuff ... the cat, the fridge, a passing pizza delivery man. It does NOT matter. Not until the Christmas tree looks like it's been planted on "Exciting Present Island" I CANNOT REST AND I WILL NOT REST *pulls cork out of bottle with teeth, slashes at sellotape with sabre*

And - traditionally - I deliver the Christmas stockings in the deepest, darkest depths of the middle of the night to the background music of  "Shh, Shh, Thump, Thump, Rustle, Bang and Bugger" and, traditionally, I will fall into bed approximately 33 and a half seconds before there's a huge squeal and a very loud clarion call of "Santa's been" (Note to self; bribe Teen Twin Two to STOP DOING THAT).

And, traditionally, just after I've finished Christmas shopping ALMOST .... Daughter3 has just asked for slippers for Christmas (I DO NOT HAVE SLIPPERS) .... I feel the warmth of the Christmas spirit.
Yeah, and this particular Christmas spirit is Gin *clinks glass* Cheers.

1 comment :

  1. I really enjoyed your post. So entertaining but it's also made me think I need to be veeerrryyy careful about any traditions I introduce, especially if they involve me having to be super organised!


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