Sellotape and Christmas

95.jpgIt’s that festive period, and I’m not feeling all that Christmassy yet! Probs cos we haven’t even managed to get the tree up yet! Weekend job innit? So tomorrow after a lot of persuasion (luckily none of a sexual nature!) the husband has agreed to purchase a real tree. Mainly because last year I gave in too his whining about how expensive they are and how they leave needles everywhere…blah blah blah so he thought a cheap supermarket jobby would do the trick.

I’m not a tree snob (well maybe a wee bit) but this tree was fucking horrendous, honestly the shittest, sparses, skinniest, plasticy tree I have ever set eyes upon. No amount of decorating could jazz up that eye sore! Every time someone came round, I felt I should explain my husbands awful choice in tree and assure all visitors that the bastard thing would be dumped come December 26th!

Rest assured all fellow tree snobs the tree is gone! I shall practice my smug bitch face when he ‘erects’ (naughty word alert!) tomorrows tree! Love being right!

Christmas time though, we can’t be fucked with mistletoe but we certainly do the wine bit and all the cheese! I enjoy those nights when the kids are in bed and we crack open the Christmas leftovers, and eat ridiculous amounts of cheese with overpriced red onion chutney! I could probably make it, isn’t it just red onion and sugar? Who cares its delish!

What I really do hate about Christmas is those presumed ‘women jobs’! As you know I feel all men and women should be equal but men (well by hubby does) presume its my ‘job’ to write the Christmas list, get the presents, wrapped the bastard things. Even at the list making point, he casts his beedy bastard eye on the list and says “Oh we are not buying for them again, I told you last year we aren’t doing it anymore!”. He then rants on about some of the shit gifts the kids get when “we only buy decent stuff” etc etc…and they say only women moan! Well I just smile and buy anyway, because if I truly listened to him, we would simply just be buying for our kids!

Another painstaking part of this list making business is I stupidly ask the husband what we should buy for members of his family and he is just as useless as a chocolate fireplace! It’s just like when you send them to the shop to pick up dinner, even though I’ve instructed him to just get anything, he still calls me from the shop all indecisive like “What do you want..Oh I don’t know…you know I hate shopping?”. Surely this isn’t just my other half is it?

So once I have written the list, decided upon suitable items without his lordships help…okay well maybe his wallet! I source these gifts, usually with his funds : ) and play down the cost of all items (obvs) I am left to wrap every bloody item and write every tag oh and all the bastard Christmas cards. In the next life I am coming back as a bloke!

Tonight I found the most annoying part of this wrapping malarkey is whatever paper you choose, it’s always shit and breaks, scizzors never ever cut in a straight line and the sellotape end where the bloody hell is it? Especially when you could have sworn you just went past it, but there you are turning the bastard thing around and around like a lemon. Even once you have found the end you cant get the thing up in one go, because if like me you bought the cheap stuff it just comes off in itty bitty bastard stringy bits! Grrrrr.

Despite the sellotape being shit it still manages to attach itself to your socks and then the carpet which you always find weeks later!

Christmas buying with kids and playing Santa is a whole military operation. I’m not sure my husband has a clue that I buy special paper, so they don’t twig, hide this paper and make sure no trimmings are left so the clever buggers don’t twig its us! I spend an entire    lifetime wrapping all the tiny weeny stocking fillers, and this year everything is times 3! There’s a reason to stop at just one surely!

Once wrapped and bagged where do you hide them? Hmm the wardrobe, but after a few days they keep falling out, then you worry if you leave the wardrobe door open and they casually walk in they will spy a pile of presents in different wrapping paper. Try the top of the wardrobe in a bin liner, under the bed if there’s room, the loft, the garage? Such stress I’m exhausted just thinking about it all! Come December 26th I’ll be relived if all these presents have gone unnoticed and I don’t hear the eldest say “Mummy I thought I saw the Harley Quinn doll in you wardrobe are you sure Santa got me this”. I will probably utter the words “Fuck sake” if this happens, and then the husband will raise his eyebrows and look all unresponsible as if to say “You had one job”.

But the magic of it all is wonderful if  you’re the receiver…..oh to be a child again but then there would be no wine….hmmm?

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