It's our Christmas party today. We're off to the Ballyrobbin for lunch with our secret santa presents bursting to be opened. I caught one of the Legal-Island staff having a nosey at the presents yesterday. The incident reminded of my sister who used to sneak down stairs and go through all the presents under the tree one by one to work out what they were. She'd shake them, listen to them and sometimes sniff them too. She was so good at it that before anyone had opened their present she was able to say who it was from, what it was and no doubt she had also worked out in her mind roughly how much it had cost.
It's funny what you remember about Christmas. I recall waking up Christmas Day with my first ever hangover aged about 17 I guess. It was a humdinger and collected following my first ever college trip to the pub. This was followed by a trip home on a bus in which I was conducting all passengers on the top floor in Christmas carols. The waking up the following day was the hard part though. Tugging on my foot hanging off the bed was my brother-in-laws Mum. A lovely woman but golly could she talk the talk and her constant "Merry Christmas duck" (for everyone in Northampton is called "duck" for some reason) "Merry Christmas duck" just felt like a knife through my brain.
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