the wonderful thing about tigger

Dear Marianne,

Nothing says happy new year quite so well as an old fashioned hanging, we should all join the Iraqi people in thanking the American and British governments for bringing democracy to their country, because it is so much better than a dictatorship don't you think. We can all breathe a sigh of relief - that will certainly put an end to the violence in Iraq and probably all the Middle East. Hoorah for invasions and lynchings - Mugabe should be a piece of piss - go USA!

Anyway, Christmas.

We spent it at my parents house, who heroically put up five children and us two old folk. On Christmas eve at 7pm when the two wee ones went to bed we put five stockings around the tree - was supposed to be above the fireplace but there was a real log fire going!
At 11pm when all the big kids had gone to bed, we filled the stockings and then ate the mince pie and drank the whisky which Anna and Mike had left for Santa, then we ate the mince pies and drank the whisky which we had left for ourselves. We sat by the lovely warm fire, with the intention to talk long in to the night about life and love, but within minutes we were overcome by the heat and the single malt and started to doze off in our chairs, like the middle aged parents we pretend we are not.

I wish I had stayed in the chair, because whilst all five children and husband slept, I was wide awake, since Mike, who wasn't comfortable on his temporary bed, was now in ours and sleeping with his feet in my ear. Children know that the trick for a good nights sleep in the parents' bed is to be horizontal to the vertical (its all angles - lessons learned in the womb), so I knew that if we had turned ourselves to sleep sideways with him, he would of course have switched and I would have been head butted instead.
Anyway, after trying to sleep up the other end of the bed, (bravely next to Craig's feet) and then attempting the sofa, the floor and the chair again, I eventually crawled back in to bed and fell asleep about ten minutes before everybody else woke.

The children were really sweet about the presents, all seemed to get what they had wanted, which as any Santa knows,(and by santa I mean tired and emotional Mothers)is a bloody good result. My Mum realised some years too late that she had to stop embracing the fun of giving at Christmas quite so firmly, when she found herself shattered at 2am doing stockings for her grown up children returning from university.

I remember one Christmas Eve, in our teenage years, (long after we knew it was Mum and Dad reeaalllyy), sitting with friends in our front room, washing down sausage horrors (sausage roll with extra stuff which oozed out of the meat)with cans of Colt 45 and Light Ale. Down the stairs came my father dressed in nothing but pants, he walked between and over the lanky legs of us teenagers, grabbed four satsumas from the fruit bowl and some nuts from the nut thingy and quietly made his way back upstairs to help Mum put these goodies with the wrong presents in to the wrong stockings. "Goodnight Santa" we said sheepishly as he disappeared up the stairs.
We were not nearly grateful enough I now realise.

Auntie Linda and uncle Mike sent some great presents from Caly-4-nigh-eh: Anna was fully Barbied out with Barbie ear muffs and gloves and two new sets of Barbie clothes - my god she dresses like a right slag these days, Barbie not Anna.
Mike got a fantastically aggressive robot – which has a gun in each hand(?) And robots around with lights flashing, body swivelling, and gunfire sounds, screaming Stop! Drop the gun! Fire! in very quick succession, very quick succession - honestly we tried it, the robot doesn’t give enough time to put down a gun before it fires; truly an American gift. Linda and Mike sensibly gave money for the big kids - you should see the relief on their faces when they get money and don't have to fake opening gifts they don't want.

The one gift which truly brought family together though was not Deal or no Deal the board game, or Sports Trivia 2007, or Therapy - which turned the family against one another, don't ever play it, it actually invites you to analyse your family relationships - something you want to avoid at this time of enforced family togetherness. No, it was bouncing tigger who was the favourite for grandparent, teenager and three old alike - cuddly, cute, innocent, did what it said on the tin, bounced on his tail and sang in tigger voice, "the wonderful thing about tigger is tigger's a wonderful thing..." If America had stopped its world domination with Disney and coke its ratings would be much higher these days.

Craig cooked the meal, I had a nap for god's sake, Mum and Dad were on grandparent duty, Dad cheating at games and playing football in the park with Archie, Mum doing whatever Anna told her to do and kissing the oh so kissable Mikey. Some old bollocks was watched on the box, Becky read a whole book, Stan drove a very fast car into a police station - on his PS2 of course you fool. At 12ish that night I heated up some brussel sprouts to have with cold turkey and fell in to bed very smiley, having consumed quite a lot of Champagne - it is a testament to Craig's love for me, and his inability to smell, that we are still together.

Hope you had a lovely Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Rx