Letter to Santa

Dear Santa

It’s now not long until you stop by our house and hopefully leave with your sleigh just that little bit lighter… We are now pretty much geared up for your arrival, the house has begun to take on the festive look, the Christmas tree has only fallen down once (and that was due to overzealous decorating on the room facing side), I roasted some chestnuts yesterday, some of which (much to the boys’ fascination) exploded all over the kitchen and in every corner of the house there are bags of interesting stuff that no one is allowed to touch.

So on the night of your visit you will have your usual pint of beer, a mince pie and there will of course be a carrot for Rudolph (or Donner, Blitzen, Prancer or whichever reindeer it is that always manages to make a single perfect bitemark every year). It never ceases to amaze me how with the magic of Christmas and a little fairy dust that despite us not having a working chimney (it was blocked up years ago), you have managed to materialize in the house, escape the hunting claws of two ferocious cats, sneak past one of the lightest sleepers known to man and fill up three enormous stockings with fully wrapped and exciting presents.

But a word of caution this year – it may have escaped the notice of your busy elves up in the North Pole that we have a new addition to the family.  We have Muttley.  He’s not that big, but very excitable, and has a proven track record of chasing reindeer (and Santas).  It’s not his fault, poor chap, most of them have been running away from him, and he thinks they’re fair game.  However, I’m slightly concerned as to his approach when he sees a Santa and a reindeer breaking into his house… So perhaps a little forewarning beforehand?

Other than that, there has only been one thing about Christmas that has phased Muttley so far.

Was it the singing Santa ornament that jiggled his hips in a frenzied geriatric manner until his batteries ran out? No.

Is it the Christmas tree with its five sets of flashing lights all vying for synchronization with each other? No.

Is it the trailing tinsel lametta that is draped over said tree and sways with a provocative shimmer each time someone walks into the room? No.

Is it the abundance of food that seems to make it into the fridge, but never comes out? No.

Is it the parcels under the tree that sit there, day after day, shouting ‘Open Me!’? No.

Is it the annoying light up snowman outside which has such a short wire that trips up anyone who walks to the door? No.

Is it the festive penguin toy replete with ear muffs and Christmas scarf that G brought back from his recent skiing trip? No.

No, it is none of those things.  What has upset Muttley so far is a pair of Christmas socks.  Just a pair of fluffy red socks with white dots on them.  And they happen to be mine.  He hates them and shakes them vehemently whenever he spies them – even when they are on me… If I happen to be wearing them, he tries to take them off, growling as he starts on the toes and pulls with force.  This becomes more of a problem if I am going up and down stairs – or answering the door to the bemused postman with a dog hanging off my foot.  He ignores any other socks, it’s just these ones, and the problem is that I am quite fond of them -  they happen to be warm – and I didn’t know that we had taken on the Gok Wan of the dog world.  But for the sake of his taste, and my feet, I have abandoned them.  God knows how he will react when he sees my Christmas jumper with two penguins on the front…

So Santa, you have been warned.  Don't sneak in this year, leave the reindeer behind, and whatever you do, try and avoid wearing red and white.  And what would I like for Christmas?  A peaceful day where everyone is delighted with their gifts, delighted with their food, delighted with the board games that we insist on falling out over every year, delighted to ignore xbox for one whole day, delighted to watch old reruns on the telly and delighted to be together as one big happy family…failing that, a good pair of warm woolen, non-patterned socks would go down a treat.

Happy Christmas!

Love R x