Tuesday 18 December 2012

Flaming sambucas, it's Christmas!

Welcome!  It's been a while since I last wrote.  I hope your parenting skills haven't suffered without my advice to hand.  But fret not for I am here to rescue you, just before you stagger headfirst over the commercial precipice of Christmas.  

Christmas is the time when Cushy Parents excel.  Alcohol on tap? (I've had my mains water supply switched to gin for the festive season.  It's not as expensive as it might seem.)  Hoover-clogging amounts of glitter?  Careless amounts of chocolate?  Lie-ins of such an excessive nature that the police break the front door down?  Tis the season to be jolly for us cushies.  

You don't need me to tell you that Christmas isn't about spending £1,000 on plastic toys that your child is going to slowly feed into the dishwasher until it explodes and your home is wrecked.  Nor is it about trying to see how many flaming sambucas you can drink at midnight mass before someone smells burning (this is a good way to keep your personal grooming costs down, since you won't have any eyebrows or eyelashes left, nor any hair).  (Nor will the person directly behind you, so choose wisely before sitting).

Fire is very dangerous.  If you're worried about your eyebrows, get the children to
 light the sambucas and stand well back, especially after a hair perm. 

There's an easy way to keep your gifts relaxed and commercial-free this year.  Tell your kids you have a rare disease that means you cannot be in contact with plastic.  One of your children will ask why you have had so much plastic surgery then?  Is it because you are addicted to procedures, Mummy, like Charlie's mum?  In response to these allegations, I suggest you pour a glass of 'water' from your newly installed tap and tell the children to be quiet and unwrap their satsumas and library books.  After all, a satsuma was a big deal in the Seventies when we were kids.  And nothing beats the smell of a good library book.  Hopefully the kids won't notice that the books are overdue by five years, and that they will have to pay back a fine at some point - probably when your eyebrows grow back.  I'm not sure what your eyebrows have got to do with it, but I guess the day you stop drinking flaming sambucas at mass and grow up, will be the day to face your responsibilities.  By this point your kids will have left home and you will have the place to yourself and won't flinch every time you start the dishwasher.  If you keep up this awful level of parenting, they may even leave a lot sooner than you think.  

Have a wonderfully cushy Christmas x    


No comments:

Post a Comment