A rather belated but very merry Christmas! I'm not entirely sure when etiquette experts recommend switching from wishing a Happy Christmas to a Happy New Year but as Father Christmas didn't deliver a copy of Debrettes this year, I'm sticking to Christmas. Even if the tree is looking decidedly wonky, tired and sad, the leftover turkey made into at least 352 supplementary dishes and the Internet is awash with "50 ways to lose those Christmas pounds" rather than "50 ways to make your Christmas Pudding even more indulgent".
Hope y'all had a good time. The toddler, although yet to be aware of quite what Christmas is about, certainly nailed the unwrapping of presents this year. As relatively new parents, we'd made the fatal mistake of wrapping said presents around 10pm on Christmas Eve, not realising that the toy kitchen we had bought was flat-ruddy-pack. With instructions that I'm sure were practically written by the toddler. In other words, little more than doodles of the kitchen at different stages of construction that after a few festive G & Ts were just a little bit tricky to decipher.
I do love this indulgent hiatus week between Christmas and New Year. Where it's still acceptable to eat Quality Street and Wensleydale with Cranberries for breakfast. To not get dressed until midday and still wear Christmas jumpers on frosty winter walks. To contemplate doing worthy things like the crossword or a game of scrabble but instead watch a feast of films on the telly (that you inevitably watched last Christmas. And the one before that). When you have friends round on the pretext of being social but have a hidden agenda of making sure they help you eat every last mince pie which you panic bought on Christmas Eve, forgetting that the shops only close for 24 hours and your freezer is full of homemade ones. And spend the best part of the week trying to decide what to do on New Years Eve... and settle on a quiet night in.
Talking of which, a happy, happy New Year to you all.