The aforementioned pastry has arrived,
the media has been alerted,
and now I've nothing to do but dress up later on and await the arrival of son and daughter.
Don't do funny Christmas jumpers because they're too clingy.
Not doing a suit for a cozy Christmas Eve.
But which blazer, Navy or Harris Tweed?
I'll ask the Gestapo. If I don't ask, she'll just tell me anyway.
Merry Christmas, everybody (including those of you who have me on ignore and can't read this).
Nifty signing out and heading for a nice hot shower. and shave.
Gotta look good for the progeny.
We've all (including the dog) got ridiculous matching Christmas jammies, courtesy of our daughter, to don overnight.
