May your days…
All the girls are here for Christmas, despite the snow. In fact, now we’re all here, and the supplies are in, and the shopping done, and the tree trimmed and the house looking fab since the girls (and boyfriend) have decorated it, the snow is starting to look like a good thing.
There are already debates. For example, is this really the best post-Spector Christmas song? The consensus says ‘Yes’, and the girls have all been brought up right, so they know about pop music.
And we’ve been swopping stories about the Worst Christmas Ever. Charley says it’s the one where we went to Brighton for Christmas, and I forgot all her presents, and left them in Lancaster. Minnie says it’s the one where she had a fight with her grandmother. My wife, Cecilia, Kate and Harold say that they’ve never really had a bad one. I still give the nod to the Christmas after I split up with Charley’s mum. I spent it with my parents. They gave me a home-knitted sweater. Charley’s Mum gave me a collection of fishing anecdotes; I’ve never understood why. That was it. I put on my jumper, read some of the anecdotes about catching pike, and went to bed after lunch.
May all our readers’ days be merry and bright; but if not, please feel free to share your crap Christmas memories.