Whether you call it Christmas, the winter break, or happy holidays, the time off from work presents the opportunity to have a think about the year gone by and the next one to come.
Unless that is you have a 2 year old, going on three. In which case, you pine for being back at work and the only reflection time is when you catch sight of your shattered face in the bathroom mirror.
For us the trigger point for the tsunami of child related activity is the last day the cleaner comes before the break and we have that highly anxious decision to make 'what do we give her for Xmas?' This time round our cleaner is so new, I didn't even know her name to write in the Xmas card. And after firmly concluding to give her chocolates, she blindsided us by bringing a big Xmas bag of something for the little boy, which led to a frantic call between Iu and I to conclude we needed to trade up. So cash in the card it was, and chocolates. And a Christmas card without a name.
Then what to give to the Nanny? And then every other bugger we know. It's a logistical nightmare.
But even in the midst of chaos and noise as people gather for the celebration of family time together, there are occasionally moments when there is a pause, like the one below.
This is a true conversation. The only bit that is not true is the fact I can't wear trousers anymore because my thighs are so fat they rub an enormous hole near my crotch which I usually notice about 6 or 7 days after everyone else. In London.
Merry Christmas everyone. And I'm addressing that to the three subscribers (yes, including you mum) for the website this year. Thank you for your support.
Comments