Okay! Jesus may have managed to feed a few thousand of his chums with a couple of loaves of bread and some scraggy old mackerel. Impressive, some may say miraculous, although if they've ever seen the lean offerings that pass for nouvelle cuisine in the snootier restaurants, it might not seem such a big deal. He never had to divide the skinny remains of an overdraft between Christmas presents for his friends, family and colleagues, though, did he! So he was the birthday boy, fair enough, but that's missing the point.
A miracle is surely the only thing that is going to help me now. There's less than a week to go and all I've managed to get are three-foot boxes of Jaffa Cakes for my secretaries and a Disney dvd ( 2 disc Special Edition no less) for my godson. I've stashed away a couple of aftershave and expensive hair product sets for Jack as stocking fillers but he won't be impressed. They don't come as a side dish to a satisfyingly large motorbike or lap-top.This mortgage lark is going to cause havoc with my reputation as Lady Bountiful.
I am resourceful and have been known to think outside the box to solve problems but short of getting in one of said boxes, elbowing out the occupant and earning my keep in Amsterdam last week, I've drawn a blank. I did find half a bag of gram flour at the back of the cupboard and toyed with the idea of making everyone festive onion bhajis. I can imagine the looks of delight on their faces as they unwrap the clingfilm on Christmas morning, the aromatic spices mixing with the scents of mulled wine. That plan collapsed when I realised I could no longer raid my step-father's greenhouse for free onions.
I've never been particularly good at gift-wrapping otherwise I'd risk cutting the boxes of Jaffa Cakes in half, disguising the open end with a fancy flouncy ribbon thingy, and give the other halves to the car park attendants and bridge toll folk. Mind you, I suspect the car park guys would already prefer I slipped a tenner in their collection tub rather than give them my usual box of Marks & Spencers Belgian Chocolate biscuits, so if I want them to continue to find a space for me when the "FULL" sign is flashing, then I'd do best to keep them sweet.
The only possible solution is that I give Jack an IOU to spend in the Sales, the 2018 Sales that is! By the time he's 28 he'll either be fabulously successful, solvent and not care that he didn't get gifts as a child, or he'll be poor and struggling and at least be grateful that our family don't go in for lavish and expensive gestures while he's sitting round at mine tucking into onion bhajis and cranberry sauce.
A miracle is surely the only thing that is going to help me now. There's less than a week to go and all I've managed to get are three-foot boxes of Jaffa Cakes for my secretaries and a Disney dvd ( 2 disc Special Edition no less) for my godson. I've stashed away a couple of aftershave and expensive hair product sets for Jack as stocking fillers but he won't be impressed. They don't come as a side dish to a satisfyingly large motorbike or lap-top.This mortgage lark is going to cause havoc with my reputation as Lady Bountiful.
I am resourceful and have been known to think outside the box to solve problems but short of getting in one of said boxes, elbowing out the occupant and earning my keep in Amsterdam last week, I've drawn a blank. I did find half a bag of gram flour at the back of the cupboard and toyed with the idea of making everyone festive onion bhajis. I can imagine the looks of delight on their faces as they unwrap the clingfilm on Christmas morning, the aromatic spices mixing with the scents of mulled wine. That plan collapsed when I realised I could no longer raid my step-father's greenhouse for free onions.
I've never been particularly good at gift-wrapping otherwise I'd risk cutting the boxes of Jaffa Cakes in half, disguising the open end with a fancy flouncy ribbon thingy, and give the other halves to the car park attendants and bridge toll folk. Mind you, I suspect the car park guys would already prefer I slipped a tenner in their collection tub rather than give them my usual box of Marks & Spencers Belgian Chocolate biscuits, so if I want them to continue to find a space for me when the "FULL" sign is flashing, then I'd do best to keep them sweet.
The only possible solution is that I give Jack an IOU to spend in the Sales, the 2018 Sales that is! By the time he's 28 he'll either be fabulously successful, solvent and not care that he didn't get gifts as a child, or he'll be poor and struggling and at least be grateful that our family don't go in for lavish and expensive gestures while he's sitting round at mine tucking into onion bhajis and cranberry sauce.
posted by Cherrypie at 4:48 am
1 Comments:
ever fear that your debit card will laugh out loud if you give it over to one more sales clerk? Or what about bright flashing lights and sirens?
also enjoyed the bit about your son "testing" the string of lights. I feel a stab of guilt about landfills whenever I throw out a useless string of lights, but its better than unleashing my rage at trying to locate the one "rogue" (love that word) bulb....
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