Chicken Pox!

Argh! You can tell it's Christmas cos one of the kids is sick. Tonight, Matthew, Peter is going to be..... (drum roll)... the POXMEISTER!

As a matter of fact, I've never had chicken pox, though I have had cowpox (long story - it was Helen's fault). So if the terrorists launch a smallpox attack on British and US interests, *you're* all screwed, but *i'm* fine. However I might be about to catch chicken pox.

Oh Lordy, it's Christmas

WARNING: BLOG ENTRY MAY CONTAINS SCENES OF CONSPICUOUS CONSUMPTION OF PINK PLASTIC.

YOU MIGHT WANT TO LOOK AWAY NOW

????

Lizzie and 'Lizzie from Cars', Santa had trouble getting that.

Pop-up books are better than in my day

Marvellous. Pink Plastic Leapster

Ocean of Pink Plastic

Playing with Lizzie's presents

Playing with Mac

Sprouts

Bratz are evil

The night before Christmas...

...and all over the house, not a creature is stirring, especially not these two little horrors. Bless. They're in bed, waiting for Santa.

But THIS is a short clip of what they were like before the chloroform kicked in...

Here we go

it's starting///
Lizzie and Peabrain doing the tree.


And my little angels....

And i'm sorry Peter, but if you don't want to be shamed on the internet, don't fall asleep on the rug with a filthy rag in your mouth, when I'm bored.

Peter sleeping

As the saying goes, I'll try anything once except incest and Scottish country dancing. Peter, on the other hand, can do Highland in his sleep.