We have planned Christmas's, one year with our family and the next with Alwyns. As a compromise, Christmas Day is at home. The kids get to go to bed buzzing with anticipation, and awake in the morning to find Santa has been and dropped the motherload on our Loungeroom floor. We spend a few hours drinking in the shining faces as they discover the treasures inside the wrapping paper, and then start an extravagant breakfast of bacon and eggs, hot buttery toast, garlic mushrooms, and fried tomato and onions. This with a good tall COLD orange juice is BLISS. And the best part? We get to eat it in PEACE, while the kids are busy in the lounge with their new loot. Then arrives Grandma and Grandpa, Auntys and Uncles, and friends laden with MORE gifts. So begins a day of excited squeals, over eating and drinking, and too much sunshine. I'm sure i'm not alone in wishing this day would last forever.
This year however is slightly different from most. Instead of travelling to Alwyns Mum's house on Boxing Day, we'll be travelling to Airlie Beach to spend a week frolicking in the pool, visiting the beach until the chafe disables us, and staying up late around the campfire with good company before heading off to sleep under the stars. This year my Christmas WILL last that bit longer, and with Christmas cookies and rumballs a plenty, a car load of unnecessary Christmas paraphenalia, and a good book, i'm off to what i think comes as close as you can get to paradise.
The worst part is, I have to PACK! Ugh. I've left it as long as i can. With only a week and a half till we leave, i think it's time to get things sorted out.
But there's just so many more pressing matters that require attention!
Maybe the packing can wait a bit longer.
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