Just spent a very relaxing weekend putting up the Christmas tree with the boys, pinning advent calendars to the wall, and watching their mounting excitement at the prospect of a big fat red dude dropping down the chimney with a sack full of presents. I’m now an expert on fielding tough questions, such as how does such a fat man squeeze down the chimney? and how can he possibly visit every single boy and girl in the whole world? So, I’m in a pretty mellow mood, the chainsaw is locked away in the garage, and I’d like to thank Ariel for his advice on my drunken typing the other day, hoho. I’m even mellow to Harry Webb, despite the constant annoyance of his yuletide yodelling.
Right, I’m off to watch It’s a Wonderful Life. It’s also Dave Lister’s favourite film, y’know.
Don’t ever let anybody put you off having kids. Yes, they have dirty nappies and can be a proper pain in the behind. But… to see those little faces when you put the star on the tree. Brill.