Young Morgan says he really, really, really wants to be eleven years old.
I suggest this might be a pity, as it would mean missing out on being five, six, seven, eight,
nine and ten years old, over which time lots of exciting things will surely happen to him. "Are you kidding me?" he asks, sounding for all the world like some All American kid. It is currently his favourite expression, trotted out at the opening of every one
of his Christmas presents to signal Delight and Appreciation.
It is early morning and Morgan and I are tucked up in my bed enjoying setting the world to rights. I'm fine when we are on safe subjects like school
meals, friends and the advantages and / or disadvantages of being four years old. I am lost when the conversation shifts to Super Mario and other characters from the game installed on his most prized possession, as of Christmas morning, a Nintendo DS.
Yes, the (Not So Very Little) Welsh Boys have arrived at our house, with their parents. This is to be their Second Christmas, and a Fourth Christmas for Mr B and me. Several of the ingredients will be the same as for
Christmases One, Two and Three - but each Christmas has also had its own injection of Special Magic and this is to be no exception.
As usual we pack a great deal into our time together. Yesterday, for example,
we started with the Grand Opening of Presents, followed by a visit to the circus, lunch out, a trip to the beach, a screening of BFG on the TV (we turned down the lights so it was like being at the cinema), Dinner with All The Seasonal Trimmings and bedtime
fun, games and other activity aimed at deferring Lights Out and the End of Their Day.
We had front row seats at the circus and came in for special attention throughout the performance from the Ringmaster.
We held our breath as the acrobats soared; whistled with admiration as the juggler, well, juggled; chuckled at the antics of the clown; and sternly warned the boys "don't try that at home" as one of the performers balanced six chairs on a table, one on top
of the other, and executed a faultless handstand right up high in the roof of the Big Top.
The final act required participation from a Mum in the audience to dance with "a star from Strictly Come Dancing".
All three boys were immediately on their feet pointing excitedly at their shrinking Mum. The poor Darling Daughter in Law didn't stand a chance. The "Strictly Star" was announced as Brendan Cole but turned out to be a large Polar Bear with whom the Darling
Daughter in Law was required to dance the Macarena and other well-known Embarrassing Party Dances. Her boys were, indeed, proud of their Dancing Mum. Their father did point out that she had been somewhat economical with the truth when, like many a Strictly
Celebrity, she assured the Ringmaster that she had no dance experience, not even when out with the girls on a Friday night. She explained that she had felt it advisable not to Raise Unwarranted Expectations.
efforts in the circus ring paid off royally when we were treated to free photographs with Brendan Bear - everyone else had to pay £2 a snap - because she had been "part of the show." A great reminder of our 2016 Christmas Treat.
With the boys in bed, we sat round the table both nights playing Nomination Whist and drinking port and sparkling wine. No, not in the same glass, don't be silly. Mr B enjoyed stinky cheese (aka Stilton) and crackers while the rest
of us tucked into cinnamon stars and Other Festive Biscuits. My Boy and I were still up after midnight last night talking about the boys football team of which he is Coach Steve. I loved the passion and enthusiasm in his voice, so like his Dad when he was
coach of the Staplehurst Monarchs Under 12 team. Like father, like son.
Thank you to everyone, family and friends, who helped to make Christmas 2016 such a joyful occasion. Thank you for all the festive greetings
cards which will continue to adorn our walls until Twelfth Night. Thank you for the presents so thoughtfully chosen, so lovingly given. Thank you to those who cooked, those who washed up, those who cleared away. Thank you for the love and the laughter, the
fun and the games.
And, just remember, we get to do it all over again next year...