tip toeing...

shhh! its christmas eve! we're all tip-toeing around the house. I mean. shit. Father xmas is. He's filling.
he's doing his stocking thang. Anyone with a stocking fetish in fact, Father Christmassing is the perfect job!
anyway. stockings are being laid out at the end of sleeping childrens' beds.
there they lay, peacefully dreaming of the logistics of one man and 800,billion children's stockings to fill in one night (anxiety dream onset: how will he do it in ONE night only? it's worse than an anika rice challenge...), and the true luminesence of Rudolphs nose in this fog (will they just crash into the first tower block in a Porstmouth suburb?).
so we're tip toeing around Granny Darlings' house down in the country. there is even a bit of snow in the garden. and we've just eaten our weight in stilton. and drunk a lot of rioja (it should probably officially be claret... but we're more cosmo than you think down here in the sticks...). and chewed some home made truffles (courtesy M-in-Law & Husband) and the scene is quite dare i say it, perfect?
and if you can guess where granny darling has put the turkey then I'll give you the last truffle...
answers on a postcard.

oh. and if anyone else does want to sign up as a "follower" that'd be a lovely christmas present for the slightly tipsy Ruined Mother.
(I discovered tonight that my mum has read it once and the rest of my (grown up) family hasn't actually even clicked on the link...- apart from Bert.... fellow brother blogger... which made me feel a bit sort, y'know? sad? mind you, not that my life is that damned interesting...)
But enough self pity! there is a night to sleep through and then a day of smoked salmon, champagne, wrapping paper and general mayhem!
Rock on Jesus! good luck down the birth canal tomorrow!