Lemsip And Lassitude

On Friday morning a couple of our merry band woke up feeling Not Quite Right. School was out. Staying in bed was in. A change of plan I should have predicted the night before, really, as I sat making a careful list of places to go and people to see. But that's the way life is, especially in December. My Christmas Countdown just wouldn't be complete without a day or two of lemsipping and lasstitude. So, as we sat huddled on the sofa (one of us hoping the snooker would be on soon and one of us wishing for a major televisual incident which would prevent the snooker ever being on again), I thought about other Christmasses and the bits we look out for every year. I came up with a bit of a list, looking something like this. Call them traditions if you like. This is Christmas

• Every year my brother arrives off the LA plane and the second thing he says after "Cor, Sian, lend us another sweater, it's a bit cold here isn't it?" is "Have you made my zippies yet?" And then he watches me taking a batch of mince pies out of the oven and nods with satisfaction. "I see you have." I quite like making mince pies and I really like eating them; but I never have cracked the art of sticking them together. They unzip themselves in the oven. That's why they are zippies. Side note: I need to remember that this year he probably won't do the sweater thing. Given that he's moved to Connecticut.
• Every year I bring out the wooden nativity set we've had since our first married Christmas, and every year I set out the figures and set aside the 200 lolly sticks which make up the stable. So The Accountant (who loves Ikea possibly more than life itself) finds himself with a nice little flat pack challenge when he comes in. I like to think of it as an extra present.
• Every year one of my friends from school - a dear, good friend, Godmother to The Small One - drops by with some presents. And every year we exchange news before slipping into our well rehearsed routine. She starts with " Remember that school dance when we were in sixth form?" She follows with "But you weren't up on the stage singing the Frog Chorus, were you? Someone saw you heading out the door with a giant branch of mistletoe." And I counter with, "But you know how it was with those school dances. Sometimes you had to make your own entertainment." And then we both smile happily and know that it's Christmas

Still going with my December Album: