I may say my Christmas day was brilliant but, not everything went perfectly. Here is a small selection of it’s less than wonderful moments.
The night before…
Son,,, Mum, I wouldn’t like to be asking you this tomorrow but…
Me… What? Spit it out.
Son… Okay, so if I am looking for receipts for anything you’ve bought me where should I look?
Me, (quietly in my head)… I might just kill you now
Christmas morning all went better than planned, with our eldest setting her clock for 5 am, so she could plant an extra two filled Santa stockings as a surprise for myself and himself from herself and her three siblings. I was more than a little impressed.
9 am… I try to pre set the oven to go on for 10.30 am, as we were going to the Xmas day swim for Daniel.
9.10.. Still standing in front of the oven, pressing buttons in no particular order.
9.15… Running out of vocabulary to express my frustration at the timer.
9.20… Brave son approaches to ask can he help?
9.21… Brave son runs away.
9.25…Panic overwhelms me as I roar at the oven and I might even have kicked it.
9.30…Son returns for a second time, but inbuilt survival skills kick in and he runs again.
9.35… I take a deep breath and remember the turkey is not even stuffed yet. I shovel the stuffing into the cavity, ignoring all health and safety advice telling me we will all die of salmonella if I do so. I then return to the feckin oven once more.
9.40…Try one last time to figure out the timer and hey presto it works. Now I have five minutes to put on as many layers of clothing as possible and leave for the Christmas day swim.
In car on way to the swim.
Me… Oh dear, I’ve just read that the road is closed due to flooding.
Himself… It’ll be grand.
Phone rings and my daughter tells us she had to turn back due to flooding.
Himself…I suppose we better go the other way so.
Me… Do you know the other way?
Himself turning to glare at me… What sort of an eejit do you think I am? Of course I do. You think I know nothing.
Me… Sorry I didn’t realise you knew these roads.
I ring my mother and we chat Happy Christmas talk for five minutes. Hanging up I look at the very unfamiliar boreen (Irish expression for tiny road a car would barely fit on) we are travelling on. The floods are very bad and water is rushing around us.
Me… Where are we?
Himself… I’m not quite sure.
Me…What! I thought you knew the detour.
Me… I think we are heading to Kinsale!
Himself… Don’t worry, we’ll be there shortly.
Son.. I’m putting on google maps.
Himself and myself groan.
Son… Oh my God it is 47 minutes away.
Me… Don’t be ridiculous.
Son… Dad we are way off. Take the next right.
Me… We are not listening to that feckin google maps. She hasn’t a clue. Turn it off.
Son… Oh wait it’s only six minutes away, forty seven minutes if we were walking.
Me… I can’t believe I believed you when you said you knew the way.
Himself… Will you stop, sure we are nearly there now.
We continued in silence and you’ll be happy to note we arrived in time.
So you are now up to date with the first few hours of our Christmas. If I get a chance over the next day or so I’ll fill you in on the rest of the days moments, but remember if you hear me say, ‘We had a fantastic Christmas’, I am mostly telling the truth, but it also had it’s moments.
photo credit: Brian_Kellett via photopin cc
photo credit: River Kennett in flood, Packhorse Bridge, Moulton, Suffolk via photopin (license)