Good morning Groovers and Shakers, welcome to another Monday, the most universally loathed day of the week. It occurs to me that there seems to be rather a lot of songs written about Mondays considering that it is a much despised day.
Think about it:
Rainy Days And Mondays (always get me down)
Monday Monday (can't trust that day)
I Don't Like Mondays
Hmmm, I think I'm starting to see a pattern here.
Anyway, the point of this post was not to talk about Mondays but to confess to how I really feel about Christmas. Since I have just spent the last couple of months trying to desperately to cancel it - to no avail - I think my feelings are rather obvious. I'm trying to work out exactly where this antipathy to the silly season comes from. The only answer I'm left with is my rather unhelpful tendency to catastrophise everything.
After all, I don't really have that many people to buy gifts for. Nor do I sweat it out in the kitchen on the big day cooking a gigantic traditional turkey Christmas lunch with all the trimmings. No way. We tend to go with the seafood and salads option in our family.
Some people will be horrified at this declaring that it's not really Christmas without a Turkey or a roast dinner. However, my Mother being the sensible woman she is, steadfastly refused to ever cook a roast on a hot Summer's day when my brother and I were growing up, so it's never really been a tradition for me. We live in the land of Oz, therefore no White Christmas for us! It doesn't make sense to have roasts when you're already roasting, people!
Instead, we had this off beat tradition of going out for dinner on Christmas Eve to a Chinese restaurant, because if you're going to have traditions they may as well be classy ones. And what could be classier than spring rolls and fried rice? Over the years this tradition faded, but we have finally decided to re-ignite it and are heading out with my parents for some sizzling platters on the 24th before coming home, leaving the carrots out for the Reindeer's and then bundling three excited boys full of anticipation and MSG into bed. Should be fun.
On boxing day we are invited to my brother and SIL's home for a good old fashioned Aussie BBQ. On the actual day nothing is planned. Besides being woken up at Stupid O' Clock by three excited boys screaming that Santa's been. Again - should be fun.
I have, in fact, begrudgingly accepted that Christmas is on and I am not able to cancel it, much to my disgust. I even tried to get into the spirit and put the Christmas tree up yesterday. Okay, technically it was actually Micky Blue Eyes who did it. Mr 9 and 5 helped to decorate it and the results were quite stunning. In a sort of abstract bogan way. No photos, so you'll have to imagine it.
The main reason I dread the silly season is basically because of the shopping. The fact that it is entirely my own fault that I tend to leave this until almost the last minute despite vowing never to do so again is completely IRRELEVANT. Also, I have the internet at my disposal with a plethora of online shopping opportunities so why I don't plan ahead and do this is beyond my comprehension.
I tend to assume that it's all up to Santa. So get that red suit on and the sleigh ready and get to it, old dude! What do my boys want?
Mr 12 wants a PS4 which only costs an arm, a leg and a kidney, so I'm counting on you, Santa! Mr 9 wants Lego and some obscure Club Penguin paraphernalia which does not appear to exist in any store, so again - your job Santa! And Mr 5? Well- he only wants every Lego set made in the whole World Ever, all of which cost around a gazillion dollars. No problem, right Santa?? I'll consider it sorted!
Just one question - you don't hang out with that lazy old Dinner Fairy, do you?? If you do, she should definitely be on your Naughty List. She has been very naughty. Very, very, very naughty INDEED. And no - I have NOT been reading Enid Blyton again. Shut up.
Okay folks, that's enough from me. Only 23 days to go - but who's counting?
Linking up with Kirsty from My Home Truths for I Must Confess.
Have you been naughty or nice?