Mr Bah Humbug is being worse than ever. He is desperately trying to get out of sending Christmas cards by being a poo. All he has to do is put his name on them then place each one in its envelope. Last year he attached the stamps ... bolshily. The year before that he addressed three of them in extra bad handwriting so I had to take over. We tried me writing and him reading me the addresses but I couldn't keep up; he shouted the postcodes at me so loudly I cried. He won't even post them. But he did buy the stamps and if you've seen the queue at the post office I'd say that was probably the worst bit of the whole procedure.
Yesterday evening he went to a wine and cheese eating contest/tasting. He came back very late with a lovely party bag of cheese, biscuits and chutney. These things were all prepacked; Mr Smith did not just fill his pockets with cheese and chutney having imbibed much wine though he was rather well oiled on his return.
It's 25% off at M&S til Sunday. I'm off to get Mr Smith some darlek socks so he can exterminate his feet. In fact I am going to finish my Christmas shopping today. Then I can wrap everything up - I love wrapping up presents, don't you? Mr Smith thinks it's a waste of paper.
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