Tinseltown

We joined hands, crept past my eldest, who was deep in his afternoon siesta and ran out the door, past the gates and down to the end of the street.

We could see the trees and logs in the forest a few steps away.  My youngest son and I were looking for a large twig to use as a Christmas tree for my apartment.

Holding up a small log devoid of any shape and bends, I shook my head at mini-man to decline his first offering.  I held up an alternative branch from a dead tree, gesturing for his interest.  He giddily nodded and smiled excitedly, though he started clapping, laughing and jumping in the air when I noticed ants crawling up my legs and was shrieking and wildly dancing around to get them off me.

The boys and I went on a shopping expedition at Eastgardens and found a $2 shop.  The three of us raided the place.  Anything shiny, colourful and remotely Christmasey we took from the shelves.  Where was the adult?  It was like three kids with a wallet.

My youngest was so excited about the purple tinsel and peglins (his pronunciation for penguins) he fell over the tinsel trail he’d made and continued to play with the decorations while flat on his back.  My other son and I took one look at each other and burst out laughing.

Glitter glue pens -” check; shiny stars to glue onto more shiny stars and tree cut-outs -” check; tinsel -”  check; candles -” check; orange and gold baubles and candy canes -” check.

Kids exhausted with ice cream moustaches in the back of the car -” check.

The following day we put up the family Christmas tree.  It was an event.  Mariah screeching, dusty sheds to coerce decoration boxes from, insect repellent to dislodge spiders lurking within the branches of the tree and enough tinsel and glitter to lose a small child in.

After gluing all the stars to the cut-outs we trekked into my apartment to put up the tasteful twig tree.

Finished in ten minutes we took off into the city to watch the Christmas parade.  At nearly twenty kilos each, holding the boys up in my arms is an excuse for the gym absence for a week.

Sunday early evening on the way home, I made plans to meet an out-of-town friend at the Beresford.  A sea of swarming men were out in the back area, some looking quite relaxed and others eager. My arms were so pumped from mini-men live weights that the glass felt extraordinarily heavy.  I was completely beat.

Strolling home to bed and smiling dreamily about the fun and excitement of the weekend, not to mention the days ahead of Christmas; cooking ginger bread men, wrapping presents and settling excited children on the special eve, the 24th-¦

Wishing you all a safe and peaceful Christmas.