It’s Christmas Day! The turkey is on, and there are presents under the Christmas tree. And we’re all together in the alps. We carry Conway downstairs, “Look”, we say, “Presents!”. We ask him if Santa brought them, “No” he says, as though we’re fools, “mummy and daddy brought them”, he’s 2.
Conway picks up each present and gives them out. He carefully undoes the bows and strings on his gifts, until he gets present fatigue and asks daddy to open them for him. There are new socks, new toys, headphones, an American football, handbags, and even tickets to see Queen. The floor is strewn with paper and string and bits of new toys.
Outside there’s glorious sunshine, I take Conway out to the park while everyone else prepares Christmas dinner. We soak up the sun and the quietness as the vegetables are getting peeled. From the park we look around town, up at the church all is quiet – the morning service is over, we heard the bells ring. Conway is sleepy, but not asleep, and as the turkey, potatoes and carrots roast, and as the sweet potato casserole cooks above the fire, we watch the original Toy Story and the smell of red wine and roast dinner fills the room.
Dinner’s ready! And on the table there’s turkey with all the trimmings, bread sauce, roast potatoes, red cabbage and cinnamon, sprouts, stuffing, pigs in blankets, Italian sausage balls, gravy, sweet potato casserole, roasted carrots and onions. “Cheers”, “Merry Christmas”, and we clink our glasses and plastic cups together. Quite an achievement delivering this feast in an unknown kitchen, with a turkey brought from Germany. And it was delicious. We followed it up with mince pies, an alcohol doused Christmas pudding set alight, and lots and lots of cream. And the rest of the day was spent digesting and drinking.
Mummy and daddy go upstairs to open their presents to each other, and Conway helps. And once Conway was asleep we whiled away the hours playing Rummikub and listening to music.