Didsburydad's Blog

From the not so mean streets of M20, blog about being a dad, Didsbury and dealing with parental confusion

Archive for the tag “Santa Claus”

A Christmas Navel Gaze

As the elves begin their final checks, the reindeer carb up for the journey and Jose Mourinho ponders the failure of his own messianic second coming I have been thinking about Didsbury Dad Towers as we prep for the latest sugar rush and present heist.

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Dinner for four or magnificent carriage – you decide

The Mighty Headed Boy is already beside himself with excitement; he’s only beside himself as the weight of expectation he carries needs two little boys. The birthday was great. Halloween’s premise of wearing a costume for sweets from strangers magnificent but this? Christmas, off the back of Chanucah and its chocolate coins is almost too good to be true.
Every night the Advent chocolate fairy leaves him a pre-breakfast treat. One night he tried a chocolate under his pillow to see if the tooth fairy would leave him a tooth. Then, some fat bloke and his deer pop in with presents. He is a convert and a zealot and already has his eyes on the Christingle orange that the St. James & Emmanuel elves are currently making.

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No particular reason – just love this photo

Whilst he promenades his joy and sings carols with gusto, the Pearly Princess is more measured – not quite sure why this is happening but savvy enough to know that lights in the house, late nights out with kisses and presents is a good gig not to be messed with.

We are the inbetweeners. The twins are not sure what’s going on but have essentially worked out that Eid and Chanucah are the warm up act in their lives for Santa Claus telling Father Christmas that his baby reindeer needs a stable to watch Cinderella on UK Gold; simple.

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Sadly for The Archers, The Grundy’s turkeys had not thought through their escape plan properly.

Didsbury Son is inbetween childhood excitement and grown up enjoyment. Anxious about the presents being right, practising indifference but keen to be key to the party. Fourteen is the awkward age. My little blondini squeaking his excitement at the wonderland of Christmas Day is still in there, suppressed by Lynx and Hormones. The teenage fight for independence is also keen for a bigger part and the magic of the season is going to have to put in a good shift.

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The poultry and fowl against Christmas scout keeps an eye out for trouble

Next year will see raised consciousness all around so this is probably the last year for a decade we can get away with kiddie fob offs and a lie in until 5.45 when The Mighty Headed Boy, like Chris Eubank in his prime, announces his presence to the world; every day is like Christmas.

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Didsbury’s Christmas Tree shines brighter than McBusted

Wednesday night saw Didsbury Village at its best for the Christmas tree switch-on. Stewards in Santa Man. City outfits telling us Santa’s not a red, it was a coca cola conspiracy. A host with a microphone full of enthusiasm and a unique lyrical skill, led us through free mulled wine and pizza, bags of satsumas and women handing out sweets. It was magical. The mulled wine was provided by The Stokers Arms and delivered by Bisou Bisou’s lovely Front of House – a kind of McBusted for the village. Santa arrived on a fire engine with a sound system playing Chris Rea and The Mighty Headed Boy, gently crushing my shoulders from the top down, cried as though Chris Rea himself were coming to sing.
The tree lit up, the sweets were snaffled and a good time was had by all. Only the darkness where once was Cafe Rouge reminded us that not everyone has there own French Patisserie – but we do, happy holidays.

N.B. I have no idea who McBusted are. I even watched I’m A Celebrity Get Me Out of Here to see if they were there.

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Ready for the big night out

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The stars came out

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The Mighty Headed Boy v Santa

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Gluttony, religion and Chocolate for breakfast

In my religion all festivals follow a similar pattern; they tried to kill us, we killed them -let’s eat. It’s an annual and generational repeatable saga. Take Passover, currently nearing its end. The Jews were slaves, God freed us by slaying first-born captors amid a plague epidemic and we left before the bread had risen.

You notice we didn’t leave the bread as we ran for our lives, we took it partially cooked. Today Jews eat Matzoh (crackers with a backdraft more powerful than your average house fire) as a tribute to our pragmatic forefathers. This notion of group identity and the importance of shared food has shaped the tribe.

Didsbury Wife and Son are Christian and Easter is a big deal. I like this. I like the fact that the breakfast, lunch and dinner (plus snacks) courtesy of Galaxy that will shape Didsbury Son’s day comes with a story and a bit of grounding; it helps. I also wish a Happy Easter to the other religions and atheists who just fancy a day on the Cadbury’s, it’s a good call.

Didsbury Son is just back from his first school trip abroad; happy yet gallically pre-teenage. I have discussed the Easter Bunny/Tooth Fairy/Santa dilemma before (my only parenting tip – you don’t believe, they don’t come). This year our foreign explorer needed something a little upgraded and 2013 – we needed something doable between nappy changes and feeding for the Mighty-headed boy and his pearl-tipped twin.
So this year the Easter Bunny sent clues by text message. this worked brilliantly. Having chocolate in one hand and an electronic device in the other fulfilled all Didsbury Son’s desires and a breakfast of Minstrels, Mini-Eggs and Milk was alliterative if nothing else.
As the twins shnurgled happily, Didsbury Son followed clues sent direct from Easter Bunny HQ that led him around the house. Via little treats stored craftily he came to an Easter Egg big enough for a dad tax without complaint.
All was perfect, or it would have been had I remembered to reset his phone so that the texts didn’t come through saying “Daddy” at the top. Definitely not a Heavenly Father but a Didsbury Dad.

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Love is the Message and the Message is Love – delivered via Dr Dre endorsed Beats

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