Not to be confused with the dead pen drawer for which I can offer no explanation, these batteries actually serve a purpose.
They’re for the toys whose battery life is greater than my will to live.
So loud they echo around my head long after the kids have gone to bed, but too fresh in their minds to be hidden behind the sofa in the hope they’ll forget they ever existed.
Given in good faith by people without children, or by fellow parents whose faith is anything but.
It used to annoy me when something came without batteries included. Now I realise what they’re really saying is,
“Batteries not included. You’re welcome, enjoy your days grace.”
Not that I ever received such grace.
What’s Christmas day for if it’s not to hunt down the 24hr garage who’ll take your car in part exchange for some obscure gold-plated battery you’ve never heard of?
But not this Christmas. This was the Christmas where batteries weren’t included, nor needed, and it’s been lovely.
A Christmas of friends and family.
From their LEGO tower destroying one-year old cousin, Wilfzilla, to explaining the controls of Mario to their 96-year old Great Nan.
She only speaks Chinese.
The boys weren’t sure she understood why they were chasing Bowser. I prefer to think she was telling them about the hidden star they’d just missed.
Like a Chinese Yoda.
Probably somewhere in-between, the truth is.
She also brought her own packet noodles for Christmas dinner but that’s a whole different blog post.
This was a Christmas where the boys learnt to play board games that relied on more than the roll of a dice, and that mockery in victory is far sweeter when you don’t cheat … or get caught.
Where I learnt that Luca is a natural at charades even if it did take us fifteen minutes to guess his tree. To be fair he did have a point,
“They just stand there doing nothing!”
A Christmas where fun can be had with just a peg. The peg of shame. It’s a peg, with shame written on it … obviously.
The aim being to attach it to someone without them knowing. More fun than it sounds, honestly! (I have my big sister to thank for this one, like I didn’t have a nervous disposition already.)
A Christmas free from the stresses of work (well, for Janet obviously).
As a stay-at-home dad my stress begins and ends with the school run, of which there’s been none.
Plus I get the bonus of lie-ins and more temporary staff than I could ever wish for, and that’s worth its weight in gold chocolate coins.
A Christmas of eating, drinking, and Breaking Bad.
It’s been a lot of fun.
So much so I might do it all again next year!
Now all I need to do is remember how I got the kids washed and dressed before the threat of Santa.
They’re laughing in the face of the Easter Bunny.