Bernard likes to mark the dawn every day, by getting up a couple of hours before it; and today was no exception, so we commenced our special festive day with the entire Thomas and Friends videotape followed by The Little Princess and a Mr Men double bill. This left me undisturbed to enjoy my novel, while Pete had his fortnightly lie in.
Once we were all awake, we made pancakes for breakfast, and Pete squeezed oranges, with Bernard’s help. Then we settled down with a cup of tea and a modest pile of presents: two for me, one for Pete and four for Bernard. Bernard likes to savour each item fully before opening the next, which meant that the last one was opened an hour before bedtime; and in between we had been out for a walk, he had had a long nap, and we had eaten a very late lunch of tomato soup.
The boys went out to kick a ball around in the street while I went down to the allotment for the first time in weeks and brought back a tiny clump of broccoli and a handful of parsley and chervil. At dusk we had our little solstice ceremony, which consisted of switching off all the lights in the house, and going round from room to room lighting candles.
It is of course all completely meaningless to Bernard, especially because every old lady he bumps into is currently checking that he has the full compliment of trees and tinsel at home, and we can’t go out in public without Christmas Man [aka Santa Claus] putting in an appearance. But I have staked my claim to a different kind of day, and perhaps we will embellish it in future years when the boy is bigger and has more understanding of why we do it differently. On Thursday and Friday the grandparents will let rip the full Consumer Christmas package, and I will hold my tongue.