It’s Christmas time. There’s no need to be afraid.
Unless, that is, you’re sharing the house with family.
In my case, I’m here at Chateau Pops with Wuglums and LSLP as well as Mrs LSLP, i.e. LSLP’s mother (who I’d not met before yesterday). I had, however, been warned by LSLP that her mother tends not to talk a lot of sense.
Add to the mix a rather confused Dad and there’ll be laughs a plenty.
Or so you’d think. Can’t say I’ve noticed too many so far, probably because the change of routine and All These People isn’t going down too well with Dad. He’s been happy enough to exchange drivel with Mrs LSLP but the whole experience seems to have left him somewhat bewildered and confused.
Much like myself, then, especially when, on coming down stairs this morning, I was told by Mrs LSLP “You should have let me help.” I had, after all, just been taking a shower.
I’m hiding in the bedroom to write this having been chased from the living room by the threat of Emmerdale and from the kitchen by the threat of The Archers. I don’t “do” soaps, you see. Still, at this time tomorrow I should be well on my way back to sunny Norfolk to spend a restful day at home (except for the need to visit Halfords for an onside sidelight bulb for the rARshmobile) before the return to work on Wednesday.
Merry Christmas, everybody.