Well. Not really. Although Santa-Baby, whilst we're on the subject, an American smile might be nice...
Christmas is coming, dahlinks, and the goose is getting fat. (As are the rest of us on all this festive fare and drink. Not that I care right now, having taken an oath recently to cut out dieting because of the appalling mood it puts me in and the bad example it sets my sons. Plus, you know, the chocolate.)
Anyway, the end of term is fast approaching, and the seasonal tension is rising. 'Are you Ready?' That's the question that I seem to hear here there and everywhere when I visit the school to collect the boys at the end of the day. I smile in a relaxed style and say 'Oh yes. Just a few presents left to buy.' I'm surprised that my tongue hasn't turned black and fallen out of my head given the amount of times I've trotted out that lie.
Ready? Am I READY?
Um - no. Yes, the tree is up, and family and grandparents have been informed of present ideas for the little cherubs. And Husband and I have had vague conversations about what each of us might like from the other. But *whispers* really - that's about it. I would love to say this lack of readiness is a temporary aberration but I cannot tell a(nother) lie - I have previous form in this area. Pre-kids I actually prided myself on doing all my gift buying on Christmas Eve. Oh, sweet innocence of youth! Obviously, now that I have children of my own, that devil-may-care attitude is a distant memory, but I'm not above leaving it until - oh, about now, really - and spending a happy evening going through the internet clicking on whatever is still available in the bargain basement section of the John Lewis 'click & collect' service, particularly when I'm buying stuff to put on the end of the bed on behalf of the big man in red.
Speaking of whom, there's another lie, m'lud. Boy #1 is 11 and - ostensibly - still believes in Father Christmas. And Sinterklaas. And the Tooth Fairy. And - probably - the Easter Bunny, although we don't need to deal with that issue until April, thank heavens. Now, I'm not completely naive. I think we all know that he doesn't REALLY believe in any of them, but is just playing along for the sake of his younger brother and in case admitting any doubt on this matter affects the number of presents he is given. So he is careful to keep his mouth shut as Boy #2 asks difficult questions (at 8, he's surrounded by friends who are also questioning/unconvinced by the Santa Myth), and when I make my unconvincing replies which normally run along the lines of 'Well, if Santa doesn't put the presents there, who does?' Boy #1 keeps schtum.
Smart boy.
As for me and my inveterate fibbing about the Potski state of readiness for Christmas (C minus 9 days and counting... Christ, now I've typed that in black and white I am starting to panic, just a bit), luckily the school corridors are thinning out at pick-up time as the early-leavers sneak out of the country before the final bell rings. (Just between us, I prefer to think of them as Rats Deserting A Sinking Ship as they leave the rest of us deal with the joy that is the Elementary School end of term party on the last afternoon). And there are only 2 days of term left, so I don't have to keep the lies up for much longer. Which is a good thing, really - as I don't want to end up on Santa's naughty list.
Just in case he IS real. (Because, you know, the chocolate...)
Christmas is coming, dahlinks, and the goose is getting fat. (As are the rest of us on all this festive fare and drink. Not that I care right now, having taken an oath recently to cut out dieting because of the appalling mood it puts me in and the bad example it sets my sons. Plus, you know, the chocolate.)
Anyway, the end of term is fast approaching, and the seasonal tension is rising. 'Are you Ready?' That's the question that I seem to hear here there and everywhere when I visit the school to collect the boys at the end of the day. I smile in a relaxed style and say 'Oh yes. Just a few presents left to buy.' I'm surprised that my tongue hasn't turned black and fallen out of my head given the amount of times I've trotted out that lie.
Ready? Am I READY?
Um - no. Yes, the tree is up, and family and grandparents have been informed of present ideas for the little cherubs. And Husband and I have had vague conversations about what each of us might like from the other. But *whispers* really - that's about it. I would love to say this lack of readiness is a temporary aberration but I cannot tell a(nother) lie - I have previous form in this area. Pre-kids I actually prided myself on doing all my gift buying on Christmas Eve. Oh, sweet innocence of youth! Obviously, now that I have children of my own, that devil-may-care attitude is a distant memory, but I'm not above leaving it until - oh, about now, really - and spending a happy evening going through the internet clicking on whatever is still available in the bargain basement section of the John Lewis 'click & collect' service, particularly when I'm buying stuff to put on the end of the bed on behalf of the big man in red.
Speaking of whom, there's another lie, m'lud. Boy #1 is 11 and - ostensibly - still believes in Father Christmas. And Sinterklaas. And the Tooth Fairy. And - probably - the Easter Bunny, although we don't need to deal with that issue until April, thank heavens. Now, I'm not completely naive. I think we all know that he doesn't REALLY believe in any of them, but is just playing along for the sake of his younger brother and in case admitting any doubt on this matter affects the number of presents he is given. So he is careful to keep his mouth shut as Boy #2 asks difficult questions (at 8, he's surrounded by friends who are also questioning/unconvinced by the Santa Myth), and when I make my unconvincing replies which normally run along the lines of 'Well, if Santa doesn't put the presents there, who does?' Boy #1 keeps schtum.
Smart boy.
As for me and my inveterate fibbing about the Potski state of readiness for Christmas (C minus 9 days and counting... Christ, now I've typed that in black and white I am starting to panic, just a bit), luckily the school corridors are thinning out at pick-up time as the early-leavers sneak out of the country before the final bell rings. (Just between us, I prefer to think of them as Rats Deserting A Sinking Ship as they leave the rest of us deal with the joy that is the Elementary School end of term party on the last afternoon). And there are only 2 days of term left, so I don't have to keep the lies up for much longer. Which is a good thing, really - as I don't want to end up on Santa's naughty list.
Just in case he IS real. (Because, you know, the chocolate...)
