The husband and I crawled through the front door on Sunday night around 10.00pm, to be greeted by the two fuzzballs as they launched themselves at us from the sofa. Looking around at the state of the house, it would appear that they weren't the only ones who had missed us.
Son number one had messaged us from the sanctuary of the sofa to tell us that there was no food in the house. I'm not too sure what he was expecting me to do from Krakow, but the husband very politely suggested that he get in touch with one of the other two siblings who were in the vicinity and get them to buy bloody food. (Son number one has his hand in plaster and is unable to drive. He can however work a laptop, a remote control and a mobile phone, thank goodness).
Daughter number one came to his rescue with an impromptu roast dinner, which was thoughtful of her, as it meant that the sons one and two wouldn't go foraging in the freezer, and eat all my Christmas food already bought (this amounts to one frozen turkey, so I wasn't too worried).
So the washing machine was full, as was the overhead airer, the laundry basket, the ironing basket and son number one's second holdall. There were clothes everywhere. Seeing a small window of opportunity, I emptied the washing machine of its five damp items (who knows if these were clean or dirty, I was too afraid to get close enough to find out) and put in the carrier bag of dirty washing which the husband and I had accumulated over the weekend.
Surely you must have had more dirty washing, I hear you ask. Well no actually. I had managed to get away with one pair of jeans, and a pair of leggings over four days, and the husband had worn just two pairs of trousers. It had been so cold out there, that to be honest, the thought of removing any clothing whatsoever was not a good one, so our clothes had been very limited to jumpers and jeans. Most of the space in the dirty washing bag was taken up by thick knickers and walking socks...now there's an image you're not going to be able to shake off for a while for which I make no apology.
With the weekend over, yesterday morning I was up early, and I started making a list of things to do before Christmas peeks its head around the corner and frightens the pants of me. Half way down the sheet of lined A4, I realised that it might have been quicker to jot down what I actually have done in preparation for Christmas. It boiled down to five things:
Made Christmas pudding
Made Christmas cake (still no marzipan or icing)
Bought seven gifts (twenty four short)
Bought wrapping paper and gift tags
All in all, I have to squeeze everything else in between 1.00pm on Friday and 6pm on Saturday. If I manage to do it, I shall be giving myself a very big reward at 7.00pm on Saturday night.
Prosecco....lots of Prosecco....