It's Christmas Day. I have not been reviewing beers regular like on this here blog as mostly I have been drinking my own brew (which it wouldn't be right for me to review, save for the fact that I find it to be a nice light ale) and then I have been trying to clear the decks with marking and whatnot. Also, I'm lazy.
Anyway, what follows is a (heavily sarcastic) battle report of the day. You can skip onto the beer review I shall be posting in a moment if you prefer.
Would you really like to know more? Be sure now!
Anyway, it's been a heck of a day. Childrens were up relatively early and the frenzy of unwrapping was much more... well, frenzied than in previous years. Last year the Boy was the culprit and had a meltdown over ripping paper before forcible lunch and trip out, which just about revived him enough to enjoy the rest of the day. The Girlie took her time and was still unwrapping books days later. This Christmas was different. Thrown out by the slightly earlier start and the fact that the Boy was beside himself (he tried to wake us up, then tried to wake his sister up, failing in both endeavours he tried to bounce on Mummy's head, then got into a strop and then his sister joined us with joyous news of her stocking being filled) and the fact that the stockings were plundered within ten minutes of that, we tried to keep a lid on things. I stocked the room downstairs with the presents and then we had a breakfast.
We kept the childrens mostly focussed by providing new reading material (not from Christmas but still new to them) and lost a butter dish to the fact that Girlie was still very much asleep. We took them through to the living room and the Boy almost lost it at the sight of the presents. Cue frantic unwrapping by the Boy and an attempt to go slow by the Girlie. But it was doomed to fail, they had both had rather too much chocolate from their stockings and they were high on sugar. Wackiness ensued. Then there was nothing left to unwrap. The Boy wanted to play with everything all at once - as we unpacked one thing he found something else he wanted to have a go with. Then we found solace in Cars and Mater's Tales. At least, for a while.
Girlie gorged the sweets from her grandmother, the Boy refused any food that wasn't chocolate, and eventually the Girlie had had enough. Threatening vomit, she retired upstairs with her Barbie-inspired dolls and disappeared. The Boy refused to eat and started building a digger, which was brilliant but some bits... eh, it didn't do everything he'd have liked. So, an increasingly squiddly Boy and his father attempted to play cars, My Little Pony (Friendship is Magic), construction cars, bridges and wooden train-track until we both gave in and watched videos on the laptop. At some point Girlie rejoined and we attempted lunch. Neither child could cope so they went upstairs and the adults ate, I should point out that they went upstairs of their own accord, they were not sent.
Back downstairs after some loud playing ("the cars can play with the Barbies, Alfred!" "Yeshch! They. Are. Friendshch! We can. Watch. Ee Vee Ee Ee Ee Dee Vees!") and tea was attempted. Girlie ate, the Boy ate only sugar, well chocolates. Then to bed.
And now you know. Aren't you glad you clicked 'Read More' above?