Christmas 2018

The children awoke at 7 this morning and while La Serpiente was keen to get down and open presents, Destroyer was a bit slower off the mark, insisting instead on lying in my lap at the top of the stairs.

Eventually we got them both downstairs and they went through a lot of their presents, although the huge sacks of gifts from their grandparents went untouched. We tried to get some proper food into them and not just chocolate, and then I took both girls out for a walk to the park.

It was cold and frosty, so when La Serpiente went down the slide she was surprised at the speed with which the smooth surface delivered her to the bottom. She also had a bottom covered in ice from the slide, and so because of this we returned home to change and open more presents.

I was having my monthly meat today, a big plate of turkey and although I didn’t think I’d eaten much, the tryptophan or the gravy or the prosecco meant I was a write-off: I spent the afternoon groggy as hell, trying to read a book about gin while the girls gambolled and froliced. We had bought them an enormous marble run, which they spent the afternoon constructing and playing with, and then as the evening came we tried to put the children to bed.

Although exhausted, they fought sleep with all their might, finally succumbing about 9pm. That left us time to eat cheese and slow down, ahead of Boxing Day. Our first Christmas in the UK in three years and that didn’t go so badly.

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