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When Christmas is finally over….


When Christmas Day is overArticle by Jane Buckle 

Mission Accomplished!

Phew it is finally all over – Christmas I mean.

I am slumped on the sofa watching Granny fast asleep and snoring after sipping her 10th glass of Sherry all day  saying “ Oh just a little one please Dear”. She is joined by the husband whose only contribution to the day haw been to carve the turkey. The kids are squabbling about their presents and I am exhausted.

I have wrestled with the turkey since 6am. I have peeled I lb of sprouts which no-one will eat. Peeled half a ton of potatoes and parsnips. The Cranberry sauce and the crackers were somehow placed on the table by me as everyone opened their presents in the Living Room.

There I found debris flying everywhere and who stuffed the wrapping paper and cardboard presents into a black bin bag or two- me.

I am called from the kitchen, my hair limp with steam, make-up run all over my face and am expected to Ooh and Aah and say “how lovely” to a pile of presents that I neither wanted or can use.

Some of Santa’s Elves would be helpful!

All I wanted was a few of Santa’s little elves clearing up after me.

But it doesn’t stop there. Shortly after I have downed my second drink of the day (brandy must of course be tasted in the kitchen before pouring it over the pudding) the cry goes up “What about some Christmas Cake and tea?”

Last year I have to confess to climbing the stairs with the brandy safely tucked under my arm saying “Get it yourself”. I did not answer the constant knocking on the door, sipped my drink and fell asleep.

When I woke up after a blissful hour of sleep I went downstairs and saw that a miracle had happened. The Living Room had been cleared, even hoovered. The kitchen was spotless – even the dog had been brushed. Everyone stood around me, handed me a glass of Champagne and all said “Happy Christmas Mum”.

Collapse of stout party……..I forgave them all for the hassle and mayhem that had happened all day, hugged them all and gave them all kisses.

Ensconced on the sofa I was asked in dulcet tones what we will do for New Year’s party.

I did wish I had not defrosted the turkey because it would have sailed past the family, the tree, the dog and right through the window. At which point I would stomp upstairs again and leave the husband telephoning the emergency glazier.

So bring on another party – if you dare!

Image credit: Free digital photos

Jane Buckle

I always wanted to be a writer like my grandfather Bertie Buckle who founded the Bombay Gazette. I have finally realised my dream and I am thrilled to be writing for Fabafterfifty. I hope you enjoy my articles.

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