31 Dec 2007
So this is Christmas
....and what have we done?
Suitable for miners Only a week after disappearing to London village for a hen party, Helen had taken herself off again for a girl's weekend in Leeds. (I have asked no questions and been told no lies, apparently; I have however received a pair of complimentary Radisson slippers for Christmas). The previous weekend, despite my best efforts at entertaining him, Dom - the ungrateful wassock - had lamented on Helen's return that "It's so not fun without you Mummy" so Webby and I were determined to raise the bar.
Having roped in Aunty Jobley, we revealed at lunchtime that the innocuous trip to the National Coalmining Museum was in fact a subterfuge to disguise the real intent of our trip: a visit to Santa's secret underground grotto. (Any similarity to a festively titivated branch of a coal mine entirely coincindental).
Dom was later to explain that he'd "thought I would be shy meeting Santa, but I wasn't was I?" This is an understatement. He told Santa what he wanted for Christmas (Spiderman toy), and outlined his familiarity with the Spiderman oeuvre (he'd seen him on the rucsac of one his friends at nursery but had never seen the cartoon or films). He was also keen to make abundantly clear that in an incident from about nine months ago where he'd felt genuinely poorly and not made it to the bathroom in time, having instead to throw up into his potty, was only an "axsticant" (accident) and shouldn't be allowed to count against his 'being a good boy' record. He promised to help find Santa's reindeer (last seen near the pit ponies) and succesfully managed to ring Santa's handbell that only good children could get a note from. Watching the anxiety lift from his little frame as the 'ding!' echoed around the mine was a joy to behold. The Santa, with his strangely broad Barnsley accent, was brilliant, as was his little helper. Highly recommended.
Demurred We first knew something was afoot when Dom told us he'd be needing a King costume. Of course, we could have made it ourselves but in the battle of 'an evening wasted' vs 'Asda £8', our local branch of Walmart won out. (Coming soon) You can judge the results for yourself: set aside twenty minutes and treat yourself. Our favourite bit was his indignation when it was suggested that he had deliberately tried to open his gift for the baby Jesus, " No I DID NOT, Charlotte Hoyle!"
Standup Comedy Tilly chose the day we put the tree up (the Sunday before Christmas) to decide to finally show some interest in using her stroller. The looming Some Mother's Do 'ave 'em routine never materialised however and Tilly has got more and more confident and pleased with her newfound ability to zoom from A to B (where B is an immovable object a number of yards directly in front of her).
Not even a mouse Dom was just nicely excited about Christmas - not so worked up that he couldn't sleep nor bounding out of bed at an ungodly hour clamouring for his presents. In fact, he waited patiently upstairs for us whilst we re-fettled Tilly who'd been up at 4.30 and 7 noisily throwing up. It was then that we learned that not only had Dominic heard Father Christmas but he'd peeked under his blind just a little bit and seen Santa's sleigh and his reindeer parked next to the garage. Luckily, he'd remembered the Spiderman.
Happy New Year!
19 Dec 2007