A little after lunchtime today my mobile phone vibrated in my pocket - signalling an answer to the question the children had been asking every half an hour all day. My parents were about 15 minutes from our door. Those fifteen minutes passed in a blur of mayhem - finishing the making of beds, putting things away, and sending children in all directions (curiously, they started obeying orders).
The next hour saw Christmas re-enacted, with the arrival of another deluge of presents for the girls. I don’t think even they could believe the piles of stuff they have received this year (and here I was, worrying we hadn’t bought them much - it’s a good job we didn’t go overboard, taking into account what family and friends bought them).
It’s a huge novelty - having my parents stay with us. I don’t think they ever have ever been away from home at Christmas time before - this has been their first Christmas “off” - visiting their children (and grandchildren), kicking back, and having fun. I think they should do it every year. For the last 40 something years the entire family have come to rely on them always putting people up, feeding them, and “being there”. It’s about time everybody paid them back.
I’m guessing our house is a little different than some of the rest of the family - we lurch from triumph to disaster on a daily basis and somehow survive to laugh about our adventures. The house is never particularly tidy, but people seem to like spending time here. There are books everywhere, photos of family everywhere, and nooks and crannies filled with curious bits and bobs in every room. If you need some kind of mental picture, think of the Weasley’s house in Harry Potter.
The only plans we have for tomorrow so far is cooking a roast dinner, and spending time together. It’s going to be fun.
In other news, we are going to send a parcel up to my brother and his family - they sent wonderful and unexpected things for our girls. We’ll try and surprise them.