So it’s not the Christmas we were expecting. This year was to be spent in NZ. The first time we’d been back for a family Christmas in six years.
It went the way of most plans this year.
Admittedly, I was pretty grateful it meant we didn’t have to quarantine for two weeks, the four of us, in a hotel room. Somehow I don’t think we would have all come out of it in one piece…
Instead, the kids went shopping for presents independently for the first time, we’ve done a tour of local parks, and my daughter explained that we’ll have to wear face masks this evening so Santa can come to visit. Of course, he’ll need one too (that can cover his beard) as he’ll be visiting lots of households this evening.
So that answers the question about whether she still believes then…
The turkey has been collected after some festive, socially distanced, best of British queueing, the presents are wrapped and the negotiations for opening said presents has begun.
Now we just have to find some hand sanitiser for Santa…
Tough Mother 