T'was the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring... except the madly energetic children high on cake and sugar and sweets.
Being locked in the house with an over-excited small child on Christmas Eve is like defusing a series of never-ending bombs. You know it's only a matter of time before calmness is snapped like a twig and panic and mayhem break out.
I actually found myself using the phrase, "...or Santa won't bring you any presents." Which frankly I thought would never happen. Oh dear me.
But I'm not Scrooge. It's still lovely!! :-) Especially as the over-excitement of a three year old makes it even more enjoyable for the rest of us.
NowshurrupcoztheChristmasEditionofTheGoodLifeison. S'the one where they all get sloshed and nearly end up swinging. Which is frankly, very Surbiton. Fabulous line from Margot (reading from a cracker joke): " 'The Oo-ar bird is so named because it lays square eggs'. I don't understand that at all."
My nephew is weeing noisily in the next room (which is luckily the bathroom) and talking to his genitalia. Ahhhh.
Anyway. Enough of this family nonsense. What have I for you today?
Well. T'is the season. But if you'll excuse a bit of guilt-inducing schmaltz, for a lot of people Christmas might be lonely, cold and a bit desperate.
I'm not going to make you feel bad! Just visit this cool site to build a city and help a few people out at the same time. Go on - it's a great way to spend the time while eating a mince pie. Or five. And Shelter will thank you.
Now. I'm so excited a little bit of wee might come out.