Christmas school holidays are fantastic but when you’ve got a few teenagers in the house supervising the profanities can be…well, it’s an effing nightmare if I’m honest.
Not that my kids swear much. They have moments, I’ll grant you, but mostly our guys know how to keep a lid on it when they’re around adults or little siblings.
But their music is a horse of a different colourful language, and they do love to sing along.
Which is why I reckon one of the best things about this holiday in the lead up to the big guy coming was the Christmas songs belted out on our Sonos, putting us all in a great mood.
Let It Snow. It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas. White Wine In The Sun. It’s The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year. My personal favourites, The Little Drummer Boy and Boney M’s Mary’s Boy Child.
Even played Baby It’s Cold Outside. I’m a rebel.
I love playing these songs loud because they put me in a good mood and, bonus, not a cuss word to be found so nothing to upset the lovely Christians and even older than me people in the homes around us.
Everyone’s a winner.
The kids enjoyed the musically themed lead up to Christmas too, and were even playing them on their own devices as they played games or did craft. In fact they know more of the classics than I do because of about two decades of trotting along to end of year Christmas Carols at schools.
But there’s still the odd song they haven’t heard enough to know all the words and this is where I shine, my booming voice getting a chance to go solo.
I’d wander about the house doing my chores and mulling over the big questions in life, such as did Tracey mean it when she told me she doesn’t want me to buy her a Christmas present this year?
But while that worked out the way I hoped, the reprieve from songs with swear words was slightly less successful.
I was in the kitchen making myself a coffee when Miss6 opened the freezer door behind me to see if there were any Zooper Doopers left she could snip open before asking permission to eat.
As it happened she was humming a tune.
A Christmas tune.
The words popped into my head and, grinning at my sweet little girl sneaking an ice block, the words came out of my mouth with great gusto as I took up the chorus with her.
Moments later I was up and stomping and shouting my way through the kitchen, all seasonal goodwill suspended.
“WHO,” I demanded to know, “IS PLAYING KEVIN BLOODY WILSON IN HERE?!”
Raising a family on little more than laughs
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