It was Friday night in Dorset and all was calm, until loud music was heard thumping outside as we put the kids to bed. Typical! Friday night and the youth with their ‘souped-up’ cars were now driving round our estate as I put my kids to bed. As I swung open the curtains, ready to shout ‘pleasant’ comments out of the window I saw Father Christmas being pulled by a tractor! In the rest of the world Father Christmas uses reindeers, but here in Dorset, to blend in, he uses a tractor. I knew it would be at least twenty minutes before he arrived in our street, as he was round the back of our estate, so do you a), get your kids to bed and save the donation, or b), keeps them downstairs? I went initially for option A. I hurried the kids to clean their teeth, and personally wrestled them into their beds. All of a sudden Father Christmas and his ‘two thousand watts speakers’ were heard and I was well and truly busted!
Apparently it was faster in Dorset to use reindeers on Christmas Eve, rather than a tractor!
We waited for an eternity until he arrived. My kids had the most wonderful time with Father Christmas giving out sweets and promising to come back in a few weeks minus the tractor. Apparently it was faster in Dorset to use reindeers on Christmas Eve, rather than a tractor, (something about traffic!) Our kids floated back into our house on a sugar high from all the sweets and fell straight to sleep. Well my little girl did, but Captain Chaos who survives on a few hours sleep a night, came downstairs every few seconds. He ended up watching television with us, until five minutes were up.
The next morning I woke up with a spring in my step as I have a smart speaker than can play the radio in my kitchen from the other side of the world. I put the radio on, and started dancing whilst making the coffee. All was well until my kids came in and took over the smart speaker. They turned the kitchen into a nightclub and wound the music up until your ears bled, because we all know music sounds better when it’s super loud. Okay, okay I know, you’re so old Dorset Dad, but I was also cranky, I even took my breakfast upstairs. As the music thumped downstairs, I finished my breakfast and fresh coffee, put an end to the illegal nightclub, and informed them that we were going out.
We had booked for the kids to see Father Christmas again at a historic house. Whilst they saw Father Christmas my father-in-law and I volunteered to walk the dog round the grounds. Well that’s what we told the ladies! In reality it was a quick sprint round the block and straight into the cafe for coffee and mince pies. We came home and my little girl wanted to use the Internet. So I set her up with it. In the meantime Captain Chaos wanted to build a glowing sword that lit up. To be fair he did an amazing job himself. He said it needed to be silver, and Mummy said to use the foil. Now when I say use foil it had so much foil you could have cooked all the turkeys in Dorset with this sword! He’s probably created the most expensive sword in Dorset with all this foil, but we had a happy Captain Chaos, and can you you put a price on that?
The rest of the afternoon was spent relaxing at the kitchen table whilst my wife cooked with, hmmm, let’s say an ‘anonymous child’! Whilst they were cooking, even with headphones on, I could hear “Don’t do that!” followed by, “We have to eat that.” I turned to see ‘said’ child with their fingers in the raw cake mixture eating it. I looked at the cakes and wondered how many germs were now doing the backstroke in the cake mixture. By the time they finished cooking, they would be rather valuable for medical science to study. I kept my head down and finished watching a television programme in the kitchen, whilst a second child finished converting the front room into a toy store.
Bedtime came and the house breathed a sign of relief, including the furniture, especially our sofa, that had taken a pounding for most of the day. As I said goodnight to my little girl, I moved onto Captain Chaos who read a book to me. This consisted of a quick page, followed by twenty minutes of waffle. A very short, five minute book took around ten years of my life and a conversation I have no idea how we got to. I said goodnight, and went for a coffee, a very strong coffee.
Night, night everyone see you next week, sleep tight.