Sunday, 27 December 2009

My Christmas 2009

Christmas day - after visiting the daughters and grandchildren and unwrapping our presents from them [just what we wanted - thanks] we went to my sister’s where she spent quite a bit of time organising people and telling some of them what time they’d be getting up today - Sunday, not Boxing Day! [they could have a lie-in]. She’s not exactly the sort of person who lives for the moment but she is the worlds best ignored organiser!

I was interrogated yet again about whether or not we were going to stay at Center Parcs for her birthday. She’d obviously been badgering my brother-in-law yesterday to find out, as I received a couple of texts from him [or her using his phone] to the effect. Tut tut, she’s so chuffing nosy.

The idea of not sending Christmas cards to each other in future was received wholeheartedly by everyone there, I have to admit at this point that my sister never used to send anyone a Christmas card until I shamed her into it several years ago [before I got grumpy].

Now to the presents - we each [obviously] received what we wanted as our main presents, seeing as we'd bought and wrapped them ourselves, even the ones among us who wanted cash to spend at the sales.

The stocking fillers - hmm, methinks my sister was getting her own back this year as she’s bought me industrial strength wrinkle creams - they could even be the same ones I gave her last year - we do this kind of thing.

In the few weeks before Christmas, my grumpy old man made a wonderful choice - aided by someone who knows me very well [me] - for my main, ahem, surprise present. He bought me a pair of padparadscha sapphire dangly earrings to match a pair of studs [and my ring] that I’d already got. Great, that’s me sorted, now what on earth shall I get for him?

I was cruising t’interweb looking for ideas on what to get him, somehow - and I don’t know how this happened - I ended up looking at jewellery. Ooooh, Mexican fire opals in a pendant - my third favourite gems. I bet he’d like something like that, then he could lend it to me to wear.

‘Verily’ said the bad angel looking over my left shoulder ‘if thou wants one, thou must bid on one at the celestial auction house and market place known as eBay.

‘Oh no, that’s not fair.’ said the good angel, balancing precariously on my right shoulder.
‘Oh would you look at that, it’s perfect, just what I, oops, he wants.’ said I ecstatically under my breath.

‘Go on, bid on it, bid on it’ said the bad angel jumping up and down on my left shoulder.
‘Oh, you mustn’t, it’s mean and greedy’ squeaked the good angel as I brushed the irritating little annoyance of my right shoulder whilst filling in my maximum bid - aided by the bad angel pushing my mouse.

Lo, the pendant was won later that very day with much joy and jubilation, then was paid for in an instant using the celestial bank known as Paypal. It was delivered at great speed through the ice and snow two days later by an early morning messenger - aka the postman.

It’s a lovely pendant, the GOM was very pleased but decided it didn’t really suit him so he gave it back to me - well, of course it never occurred to me that I should keep the pendant for myself, ahem, not until he suggested it - he said he’d keep the AIG certificate though so he can look at the photo of it whenever he wants.

Surprises from the GOM -
  1. Terry’s Chocolate Orange.
  2. Terry’s Chocolate Orange box [weighted] with a ‘me to you’ bear in it.
  3. Terry’s Chocolate Orange in a big box with a spare loose one in the bottom from the 2nd surprise.
  4. box of Liquorice Allsorts - revenge present for the pendant.
  5. ‘Oi!! where’s my Southern Comfort????’
He'd forgot to wrap it. I didn't realise it was missing until I was in bed last night cataloguing all my presents in my mind, I jumped up and told him it wasn't there, bless him, he said he'd go down and wrap it for me, this was at at 12.30am, isn't he sweet - or something?

Hang on a minute, the cheeky sod! I bought the Terry's Chocolate Oranges - buy 1 get 2 free from Morrisons. Hmm, I think he’s starting to catch on to my methods …

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Be nice, I'm very sensitive.