An abundance of Advent Calendars

Date: 04 December 2008 21:17:10

It's the first Advent season Mr M and I have had minus fledglings. After the best part of 22 years, life is no longer governed by school reports, carol services and concerts. We have a dog- sitter instead of a baby-sitter, and a certain bearded gentleman with ample girth has to set the alarm to wake him up in the wee small hours after said offspring have staggered in from pub and parties. It's strange. We're feeling rather old and decrepit all of a sudden. As our bishop says in his nifty, handbag-sized Advent book cum calendar: 'Do Nothing, Christmas is Coming' - there are four stages of Christmas:

You believe in Father Christmas
You don't believe in Father Christmas
You are Father Christmas
You look like Father Christmas.

Or Mummy Christmas in my case. No, no beard yet. (Stop sniggering over there!). Though being practically menopausal and all, anything's possible, I suppose. Never mind. At Mr Miffy's urging, we've bought the book and so far I'm right with the Bishop re some of his suggested ways of slowing down: 'Prune your Christmas card list.' Yup! 'Choose one book that you love and send everyone a copy.' Could be a tad expensive if Mr M decides to give everybody a copy of the latest Delia Smith. 'And with all the time you've saved, put your feet up for an hour!' Yes, yes, yes! Now, does it say anything about use or non use of the dreaded chocolate Advent calendar? I'm ashamed to admit, that after years of being a killjoy when the children were little, I've come round to giving these housespace. Actually, I'm embarrassed to admit, we went out and bought one to keep all to ourselves! (Oh the shame!). It's hung up on our bedroom wall, and the beloved and myself are taking turns to open the picture window and the chocolate window. (Sounds like something out of 'Playschool, doesn't it?). I shall, of course, be keeping a close eye on any nocturnal ramblings on Mr M's part. No sneaking out of bed at crack of dawn and pinching my choccies!