It’s Christmas When…

When you’re up to your eyeballs in fighting kids and sprouts – they do make great missiles I’ll grant you but pack it in I actually really like them. Actually they make pretty good weapons before AND after they’ve been eaten. Stinky.

When you’ve run out of room to hide the presents and you find yourself screaming “NOOOOOOOO” every time you hear someone open a cupboard door even if the poor sod is just trying to get the Shreddies out with a look of fear in their eye.

When you think you might die if you have to set foot inside another sodding shop where everyone walks at the pace of a snail and you find yourself cuddled up to the most unsavoury of characters in the scrum at Argos. Sweaty armpit to the face. Cheers then. You think it’s freezing outside so you wear your ‘big’ coat out but then you feel like a roasted turkey after 10 minutes inside a shop.

When you don’t know whether to choose the golden goose egg, unicorn poo or dinkleberry infused sausage meat so you buy them all then panic about what the hell you’re going to do with it ‘cos the freezer is already threatening to burst open at any moment throwing your satay sticks and 4000 mega pack of Iceland mini sausage rolls all over the kitchen.

When you’ve whispered “ffs give me a break”435 times between 6.30 and 9am but the kids continue to Karate Kid each other and the other half can’t find ‘the thing’ they’re looking for even though it’s right there, right there bloody looking at them. Argghhh.

When you’ve threatened the kids with the naughty list so many times even Santa himself is thinking he’d quite like to use up some of his annual leave to have a Groupon bargain spa day and slob around in his vest and pants. That suit gets a bit chafey you know?!

When you’ve already replaced 3 boxes of Quality Street because they were there, taunting you. Calling out to you while you were minding your own business watching Eastenders. Such attention whores.

When you still have to work Christmas Eve and look longingly at everyone else with their bucket sized glass of Baileys photographed in their hand in front of the twinkly Christmas Tree. I don’t hate them *gritted teeth* I don’t. I just hope it curdles, you gits.

You know it’s Christmas. It’s easy to feel stressed and like you just can’t wait for it to be over and nothing you do is ever good enough. But do you know what? I am bloody good enough and so are you. Whatever your Christmas looks like, enjoy!

Merry Christmas You Filthy Animals!


7 thoughts on “It’s Christmas When…

  1. Your Quality Street boxes were all attention whores too? I thought it was just mine? Hope you had a fab Christmas lovely, and that you maybe at least get NYE off? If not I’ll be working too so I’ll toast you with an office cup of crap coffee. Let them have their Baileys. Pfft! 😉 Happy New Year to you and I hope 2017 brings you lots of lovely sparkly things xxx

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Ah it’s all fun and games isn’t it! I was shopping yesterday thinking this is mad like what am I even doing my 20month old prob won’t give. Crap! Plus I could be at home in the warm on the computer!

    Liked by 1 person

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