I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day

Now, I vaguely remember some sort of hoo-ha going on last year. I definitely recall a tree and a mad day where I had loads of presents to open. And for the past few weeks Mummy and Daddy have been going on about some bloke called Santa (who is going to bring me a bike, apparently. Good for him), and talking about Christmas.

Well, it seems Christmas has arrived. And it is soooooo fabulous! It was some genius who thought this lot up. The tree is back, bigger and better and shinier than I remember, and we have Santas and trees that dance and sing. Mummy loves these, she keeps telling me not to keep pressing the button in case I break them. Though I’m not sure why she says it through gritted teeth.

There’s tinsel round the house. There are lights everywhere you go – we even went to town last week to see some and saw Santa, and Noddy in his car. That was amazing. The shops are full of toys, and I just have to point at one and say I need it, and Mummy and Daddy say they’ll ask Santa about it. He must be loaded. We get to watch special Christmas stuff too – the Christmas Wiggles [Note from Mummy - Yule Be Wiggling & Wiggly Wiggly Christmas to be exact] are back, I’ve got an excellent new DVD with lots of boys and girls singing new songs like Jingle Bell Rock (highly cultural) and dancing Santas and we watched a Muppet DVD tonight [Another note from Mummy - Muppet Christmas Carol]. And I’ve been promised that we can watch the train film again [Polar Express - Mummy]. As well as all that, I get to open a little door every day and get a chocolate. Except Mummy forgot today, I’ll have to have a word with her about that.

There’s some talk about Jesus too. Now, I know about Jesus. We got to church and Daddy reads me stories about him sometimes at bedtime. There’s a statue of him in the kitchen (he’s so cool, he flies like Buzz Lightyear). But he’s always been grown up. Now all of a sudden they’re all talking about Baby Jesus. Confusing.

One of the songs on my new DVD is I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day. This is a weird thing to say. I mean, it is Christmas every day. Every day I get to open the door for chocolate, the tree is still up (and calling me – “take the baubles Daniel, they’re no use just sitting there”) and I can watch Christmas Wiggles or Santa if I want. Is there something they’re not telling me? Does this have to end?

I bet it’s to do with Baby Sister. Everything is her fault, from now on.

But until I’m told it’s not Christmas anymore, I’m going to keep rocking round the Christmas tree, and loving it.

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