Breakfast With Father Christmas.

By alison December 6, 2006 7 Comments 1 Min Read

Breakfast
Humour me. I know this is the second babba with Santa photograph in as many days, but  Christmas as a Mommy offers far too many opportunities to show off your own little rockstar…
So this morning we went for breakfast with Father Christmas and as you can see no-one was that impressed. Even old Nicholas himself looked a bit bewildered. I was busy stuffing my face with a sausage sandwich, Mum was hovering about looking demented by the mayhem that is a ludicrously rainy day,  100 kids, assorted family members, lots of croissants and a hungover Santa, while  Finley couldn’t make sense of the whole situation, so concentrated on eating the gluten-free toast I had to toast myself because school had forgotten to provide it for him.
And actually speaking of toast, if I tell you something, will you promise not to banish me to the home for women with slovenly ways? Last night when I was getting undressed for a bath, a  piece of gluten-free toast tumbled out my trousers and landed jammy side down on my cream carpet.
Yes, Dear, you read that right. I am the kind of scummy wench who keeps toast in her trousers.
Please don’t report me to Santa.

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7 Comments

  1. sarah says:

    Don’t worry – I’m disgusted to say I once had a chip fall out of my bra when I took it off. I didn’t even know it was there. I think there may be soldiers down there that don’t know the 2nd world war is over. I won’t tell you how it got there in the first place….. so Scummy wench you are not lady!

  2. sarah says:

    Don't worry – I'm disgusted to say I once had a chip fall out of my bra when I took it off. I didn't even know it was there. I think there may be soldiers down there that don't know the 2nd world war is over. I won't tell you how it got there in the first place….. so Scummy wench you are not lady!

  3. Jaimie says:

    This will sound horribly nitpicky, but I feel I have to mention it as it's obviously a big part of food planning at your house and thus is mentioned fairly frequently — it's spelled "gluten" (referring to wheat). "Glutton" is another thing entirely, and as gluttony is one of the Seven Deadly Sins, not a word you really want to associate with your sweet curly-headed son!

  4. lazy h says:

    Heh heh heh! I love you Alison – that's cheered me up on a day of grumpiness.

  5. Nancy says:

    I love stories like that. It reminds me of my daffy, charming, "Jerry-Lewis-clone" former sister in law. She was vaccuming and picked up a "gift" from her dachsund, deposited the tissue wrapped offense in her pocket and kept at her task. She went about her day, running errands at the Post Office, the hardware store, the grocery store….all the while trying to figure out when she had stepped in doggy poo and even asking a woman behind her at grocery check out if she also smelled a stinky. Imagine her surprise when she emptied HER pockets that evening! You have to love any woman who can laugh at herself such at this!
    And Finley is SO handsome! My, he is growing into a fine young man so quickly! Can we slow him down a titch? 🙁

  6. Cookie says:

    Oh Deary Me…you made me fall off my chair laffin……I once pulled a spaghetti strand out of my bra….those WW2 soldiers will never go hungry !!! lolol

  7. Lizzie says:

    Dont worry about the toast – I once (many years ago now) found a Cadburys Roses chocolate still in the purple paper half way down my panty hose about in line with my knee – it was Christmas Eve as I recall.

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