Well, I was woke up at 06.02am this morning by my darling Mini Me, asking if she could go in the front room to see if Father Christmas had been. By 06.07am I realised I hadnt been in a coma for the past 24 hours, and infact mini-me had got the wrong day. Bugger. Two early mornings instead of the 1.
Anyway, by 08.19am, I managed to convince mini-me that Santa was coming down the chimney tonight and not today (what with it still being night at 6.02am - which she couldnt grasp meant early morning, rather than the middle of the night - if only she was at an age to grasp that fact)
Soooooo, finally, she is in bed, carrots are chopped, reindeer dust sprinkled, a mince pie nicely rotting by the fire place..... its Christmas Eve.
Its got me thinking back to Christmas's of childhood, and the innocence and happiness that mini-me is currently experiencing, and just how magical Christmas is for the children (sorry, too much baby sham and advocaat tonight). Wouldnt it be good if Santa really did exist and there was peace on earth at Christmas?