Vic’s Bum Ruins Christmas

Before I get to the part about Vic’s bum ruining Christmas for the entire family, I shall tell you about the circumstances that surrounded it.
Our original plan for Christmas was to hold it at our house again. Unfortunately this was impossible as we had very kindly allowed Vic’s Dad, who is currently ‘between houses’ having moved to Yorkshire, to store his furniture in our spare room. So with teeth gritted, we agreed to go to Mum’s for Christmas. Chris, my younger brother, was not going to be there as he was unable to get time off work (he’s a nurse), which was a shame, because he’s usually the only saving grace about going to Mum’s. On the plus side, Vic’s mum was invited over for the day, which meant that we didn’t have to rush off to engage in the obligatory visitations straight after lunch.

Having finished work at lunchtime (absolute bonus, that. Didn’t even have to take the half day as holiday) I winged my way home with the Stead. Vic, the dirty stopout, sloped off to the pub for the afternoon.

So we finally left to go ‘down south’ at about 7, arriving at 9.30ish. Darnit. That means we missed Midnight Mass at 8pm. Shame.

Anyway, after a morning or utter, utter boredom (Where’s the Bored Board when you need it?), and Russ’ normal Christmas bad mood, we sat down to dinner, which was very tasty. Christmas dinners are great. Especially when the turkey’s been covered in bacon. Mmmmm… bacon…

Then we got to the present-opening part of the day. This is where Vic’s bum and the ruining of Christmas comes into play.

Having cunningly tricked the Vickster into performing Chris’ traditional role of distributing the presents from under the tree, Vic engaged in the activity with gusto. And a splendid job she did of it, too. Until she decided to crawl under the tree to get the last few gifts from the back.

Bad move, that.

The towering elevation of Vic’s derriere caused the tree to descend in a graceful arc onto the floor, scattering baubles in glorious devastation.

Christmas. Ruined. By Vic’s bum.

Of course, I exaggerate. Christmas was not ruined at all. It was pretty comical, though. Heh.

Even better, was that despite being 250 miles away and working a 12 hour Christmas day shift, Chris still managed to make my day by telephoning at about 8pm, on his return from work. He decided to open his presents on the phone (bear in mind at this point, that both parents and Vic’s mum were present in the room and Chris, unbeknownst to him had been placed on speakerphone, so all could enjoy his delight at his presents).

Upon opening my present to him (and all the while thinking that I was the only one that could hear him), Chris enquired (and I quote) "What the f*ck is that?".

Loudly.

Obviously a bollocking ensued from Mum, who keeps forgetting that he’s all grown up now.
The present, incidentally was a pair of radio controlled battling tanks. Very cool.

Of the many cool presents I received for Christmas, mention should be made of my new Kodak Digital Camera: http://www.kodak.com/eknec/PageQuerier.jhtml?pq-locale=en_US&pq-path=4633. Exellent present from Mum and Dad there, which perfectly juxtaposed the cardboard build-your-own-st-paul’s-cathedral kit that they also gave me!