Better not pout I’m telling you why: Santa Claus is coming to town…
This time of year for me is never about who is coming to town but more about who is leaving. It seems that tis’ the season to pack it in, say farewell to London and shimmy on home to Cape Town.
London is not a permanent city for most people. It’s very cosmopolitan and we have a constant ebb and flow of Saffa’s (and Aussies, and Kiwi’s and various Europeans…) It’s different for me because I am fixed. After a couple of years here we realised that we weren’t going to be rolling with the tide and finding our way back to Cape Town. I love it here, but it means that I have to live a life of “Hey, nice to meet you,” followed shortly by “Cheers, see you sometime on the flipside.”
I may pout just a little… I haven’t yet been on the flipside.
He’s making a list, and checking it twice…
Lists? I am devoid of lists this year. I don’t know what the heck I’m doing but it’s rather nice. Stuff seems to be happening regardless. Our place looks awesome, with what can only be described as the best tree in the world sitting in our lounge.
I am not hosting Christmas day this year and will be traveling to Wales. This brings its own challenges, which I will explain in a bit.
Gonna find out who’s naughty and nice…
There are presents and then there are PRESENTS! Our Lil Fella after weeks of deliberation, mind adjustment, therapy on my part and a just a few pounds, is going to be getting his first bike for Christmas. No, not bicycle – bike. With a motor. A mini version of a dirt bike. I blame Red Bull X-Fighters for this. As much as I love watching the likes of Robbie Maddison and Nate Adams doing amazing stuff on bikes that really just shouldn’t be possible, and as much as I think it’s cute how Lil Fella has for the past 4 months been trying to pull tricks on his bicycle it’s another story slapping him on a motorized vehicle. However I have gone through everything in my head, researched some stuff and had extensive talks with the husband and now think I’m mentally ready to become the mom of a boy with a dirt bike.
Either this is going to be the most expensive phase ever or I will be tranquilized in a few years time while watching my Lil Fella attached to a bike, leaping a thousand miles in the air, leaving the bike, reattaching himself to the bike and then landing on a mound of dirt. Or the other scenario is he just decides to go really fast around a track.
Oh and remember the challenge I mentioned earlier? Yeah, that would be getting a bike to Wales without the Lil Fella noticing so he has the pleasure of opening it on Christmas day.
Santa Claus is coming to town..
5SFREZTTWAP7