Days with Tom #5. Christmas Days

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Iiiiiiiiiiiiit’s Chriiiiiiiiiiiiistmaaaaaaaas!

Well, Tom. This is a momentous, erm, moment. The first post of 2013. A belated happy New Year to you, my lovely little lad.

This brings the total number of posts to a massive five in nearly two years. Even by my apathetic standards, that’s quite impressive. You should be proud of your old man.

So, what’s occurring then? Well, your second Christmas came and went. Unlike your first festive experience, when you were more interested in boxes and paper than the actual contents, you seemed to ‘get’ what was going on. Apart from thinking that Christmas is Santa’s birthday – but, hey, you’re not even two yet and we’ve got plenty of time to sort out the whole ‘Baby Jesus’ thing.

Talking of Santa, we took you to see him this year. You weren’t scared, just a tad overwhelmed (and somewhat out of focus). You asked him (via mummy) for “choc-choc”. You got a paint set. Silly Santa.

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“Where’s my chocolate, fat man?”
“Don’t talk to your father like that.”

Going to see the fat guy in the red suit was just one rite of passage that got me a little teary-eyed and choked up. It’s just another sign that my little lad is growing up fast.

Another rite of passage was leaving a sherry and mince pie out on Christmas Eve. I love this photo – there’s a sort of innocent wonder that I hope you’ll always keep (Oh dear, did I just write that? It looks like the manopause is fast approaching).

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“Mmm, forbidden mince pie.”

And of course, every family must sit down and watch The Snowman together. Except this year it was The Snowman and The Snowdog. You liked it a lot. So much so that we watched it over and over again. And each time you didn’t quite understand why daddy would get so leaky in the eye department.

It happens when you get older, son. Trust me – it happens a lot.

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