In a week, it’ll nearly be over

Today is Thursday, which means next week is 24 December, which means on Friday next week a lot of the kerfuffle and panic from people’s lives will be gone.

I’m even more stoic than usual (if possible) about this Christmas, mainly because Hubs will be away 23-24 December. If his flight is delayed, he may not get home until Christmas Day. We’ve made no plans other than our usual boiled eggs and soldiers for breakfast, and maybe a picnic, (if it’s not too hot). He’s been away eight days out of the past eleven – I think we could all do with some down time with him at home. Our family ‘do’ is on 27 December, when we are all together with the in-laws and then we’re celebrating our youngest nephew’s first birthday on 29 December.

Not forgetting the Boxing Day Test, which against the West Indies could be over and done with in three days not the usual five. (I’m still amazed that some of the fast bowlers refused to bowl from one end of the Tasmania pitch; erm – that’s your job?) Hubs is off to the Test on Boxing Day, if it’s still going on 28 December, Peanut and I will join him too.

The decorations in our local shopping plaza/mall have been up since before Halloween. This week Peanut came home from nursery with glitter and porridge oats in a sachet, with a poem about leaving the mixture out for Santa to guide his reindeers to the house, which infuriated me no end. Having spent all year talking about characters i.e. Batman, Superman, Santa; his childcare have revved him up to eleventy stupid about the whole ‘Santa’ gift-giving thing. Peanut is freaking out that we don’t have a chimney, so he can’t hang his stocking and how is Santa going to get here? Hubs and I have been really careful in our language saying ‘You need to wait for Christmas for your presents’ and ‘It’s about being with family and celebrating a special occasion’. Nowhere have we said anything about ‘Santa bringing you stuff’. It’s maddening that at not quite four and a half, we’re already battling peer pressure against a decision we’ve made not to lie to him about where his presents come from. ARGH.

I’m off to be a humbug and collect Hubs from the airport. I’ll leave you with this:Christmas





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