Christmas lights...

After yesterday's present wrapping marathon, I have developed a wrapper's stoop.  Gently bent over at a 45 degree angle with a biro tucked behind one ear, bits of sellotape stuck all over me and a precious and rare pair of scissors dangling from my clawed hand (this also with scraps of sellotape stuck to it).

The problem with present wrapping is that recipients tend to bowl in and out of the kitchen while I am in full flow, putting their hand over their eyes, declaring, 'I'm not looking', all the time peeking between their fingers, desperate to get a clue as to what they are getting.

There is some doubt as to whether the husband will be getting any kind of present from me this year after his throwaway comment yesterday morning.  We were discussing trifle, my pudding of choice for Christmas Day, and I was muttering about whether to pop the usual cherries on top, or go with chocolate sprinkles for a change.   

'Why don't you get a couple of trifles from Aldi', suggested the husband.

I bristled.

'I can't serve Aldi trifles at my Christmas table', I said, my eyebrows shooting up my forehead like a couple of slugs on a trampoline.  'What would my mother think?'

'Well I think they're better than the one you make...'

If looks could have killed, I'd be singing 'Abide with me' right now, and he shuffled out of my office muttering a feeble apology.

Fast forward to yesterday afternoon, and we're looking for lights to put along our fence.  After a small contretemps in Argos over coloured lights or some awful strawberry shaped monstrosities which the husband was keen on, we finally settled on some sensible string lights and the husband set to putting them up on the fence.  I was banished to the house, until the husband felt ready to pull me out for The Big Reveal.

Ushering me out with my eyes shut,he switched the lights on.  'You can open your eyes now'.

Oh, it looked lovely...

'Am I forgiven for the trifle comment?' he asked.

Well, dear reader, I wasn't going to let him off that easily.

'Make me a cup of tea, and I'll think about it'.

With a bit of luck, I could keep this up till New Year...


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