It was a good Christmas in the WallyHousehold…
… despite the newly-formed slightly-leaky holes in my house, the puking toddler, no Sky TV and the cats teaming up to take a giant shit in my utility room, I have to say Christmas Day was STILL fairly awesome.
The complete lack of television meant we actually had to have conversations… (remember those – that thing you did before twitter… I know. Weird right…) By midday I’d worked myself into a semi-permanent prosecco-come-purple-quality-street haze… which meant I soon forgot the toddler-chunks in my fringe and was back to charade-ing my tits off.
And yes. Charade-ing is a word.
We conquered the epic toddler gift mountain in record time by following a strict colour coded system and maintaining a steady one-gift-per-gin operation… until WallyGrandad passed out from dolly-dressing-up exhaustion, and the WallyHusband was forced to use the ‘safe word’ – Mince Pie. Which we all then ate until arteries started to weep.
WallyBubba took no interest in the concept of Father Christmas, but seemed fairly happy that somebody (albeit somebody with a beard) had transformed the living room into her own private river of Fisher Price diarrhoea… although it didn’t take her too long to start wrestling her new dolly car-seat after realising she couldn’t fit in it herself. *deep sigh* Fortunately she was bribed out of her rage with the iPad, a Chupa-Chup, some farting and a series of wardrobe changes…
I got some designer shoes so the WallyHusband is still alive and looking forward to my birthday. (And all the other occasions I’ve decided we’ll now be celebrating throughout the year…) And I gave him half an hour off to have a poo in peace, so a fair swap I reckon.
Since then, we’ve basically just been sat around for four days in piles of packaging playing Peppa Pig Snakes and Ladders, and eating cold roast potatoes along with the less favourable colours of Quality Street… Because THAT’S what Christmas is really about. That and Alcohol. Obviously.
I honestly think the toddler will be sad when the tree is gone as she’ll have to go back to fucking up all the ordinary shit again…
In other news, I can now eat After Eights via osmosis and drink gin using only my ovaries and a straw. #Proud
See all you bastards in 2014. (Tomorrow)
The WallyFamily xx