You Might Be Big And Cuddly Mr Claus, But I Still Ain’t Queuing
This year we shall be attempting the mandatory childhood photograph. Said child upon the knee of Father Christmas. As all mothers I’m hopeful that the Munchkin will enjoy her brush with the most famous man in the world, however I must prepare myself for it to go horribly wrong.
Last year, a little premature on our part admirably, we took the Munchkin to meet Santa at Kew. Following a queue of about 20 minutes she decided she’d had enough. Still wobbly on her chubby little feet, like a fowl taking it’s first steps, she went darting off , pulling back the curtain to interrupt his current audience. Standing there swaying she shouted what I can only describe as profanities. Thank God, she was only 13 months old and at the time yet to master the art of the English Language. It was like a drunk busting into a church on Christmas Eve I tell you.
I have high hopes this Christmas. So high in fact what we’re going to see the king of all Santas - this year we’re heading to Harrods.
The tales of weary parents queuing for hour upon hour for a quick meeting with his Highness have previously terrified me. There is only so much queuing you can do with a two year old. Fortunately Harrods seem to have taken this on board and via their website are now offering the chance to book a powwow with the man himself.
With our tickets arriving last week and Grandma’s train booked in anticipation, we’re pretty much ready. All that’s left to do is build the excitement and pack some tissues.