Oh gosh, Crimble has been and gone and I now appreciate all the hard work that Mum and Dad must’ve put into making each Christmas at home so special for Sy and I. Sam is too young to even know what’s going on and I feel exhausted having been running around trying to share the spirit of Christmas with him. I’ve barely even touched the tip of the iceberg compared to the effort I remember Mum and Dad going to. Thank you for the great memories folks.
Anyway, yes, I’ve been so excited about Sam’s first Christmas and being able to share all those fabulous Crimble feelings with him. (OK, so yes I am carefully editing out any tantrums and loving fights with my brother from this rosy scenario.) It’s been hard to really get into the spirit of Christmas over here, what with the weather being so darned toasty and without a peep of Wizzard or Slade (who knew I would ever actually miss those overdone anthems?!) but I’ve tried.
I guess the first proper taste of Christmas, if one ignores the stressful mad rush to get presents to the Post Office in time for overseas last delivery, was the AH4 Christmas EAV pub crawl. I had been eagerly looking forward to this for some time and was so disappointed when Bill went out on Saturday morning and didn’t return in time to take over looking after the boy. As the start was so close I decided to make the best of it and walk over to the village with Sam thinking maybe we can at least say hello and get a spot of exercise. The afternoon then didn’t quite work out quite so sedately when Santa “PWD” Claus got hold of the boy.
While I was being a cheap skate and taking my cheapo seemingly obligatory photo with Father Christmas and avoiding having to go to a mall to do this, he whisked him off down the road and into the Flat Iron. And so it was that Sam experienced his first pub crawl.
Ooops, I’ve left it too late and now Bill’s come to bed and pointed out it’s way past my bed time too…to be continued.