Deep Breath

Bar humbug, I’m going off this Christmas thing! On Friday the Christmas cards I ordered finally arrived. The reason they’re so late is that I ordered them from my daughter’s school after they had the children design their own for our approval. I thought it’d be cute to send out a card J had designed herself. But I didn’t anticipate the printing process. Or maybe I didn’t pay enough attention to her design in the first place. I certainly noticed the price of this luxury, but it’s a bit unusual, and a better than average way to raise funds for the PTA, and it was a cute idea!

Here’s what we got:

Is it me, or does this remind you of a cheap seventies Christmas card? That’s what they remind me of. They’re horrid. I just can’t bring myself to send them out, especially as the recipient wouldn’t know why my taste had dive-bombed unless they look on the back cover and see J designed it herself. And if I was sure everyone would do that, I’d also feel reasonably sure, they’d see it was a cute idea too!

But I don’t look to see who prints the cards I receive. I suppose could write a comment in each, explaining. But then, why not go one better, and prove my kids helped design them?!

Yesterday afternoon, feeling determined after my *pathetic attempt to dent the Christmas list failed miserably, I got out the glue and glittery things and put my children to work.

Oh the **fun we had! And we even remained calm right up until the final ten minutes, by which time the entire table was covered in glitter. And most of the floor. And there were snowflakes stuck to the chairs, and door. Of course all clothes and hands had to be washed, and quite a few faces too. (You’ll notice I said we stayed calm. Even the BH didn’t escape this fun! Not that it didn’t occur to him to ***try.)

In traditional family spirit, everything was argued over. How much glue other people were using, who mixed the red glitter with the silver (it was S!), why so-and-so was hogging the angels. Yes, it was what memories are made of (I can even smile about it already!)

And here’s a sample of the appalling hand-made Christmas cards we shall be torturingwowing our friends and family with this year:

The children are delighted, and can’t wait to do it again. And I suppose those closest to us shall see the cuteness of this year’s effort. I hope. And as for the rest, well they won’t forget they got one from us!

--x--

* I did manage one item on the Christmas list, R’s guitar! Having let the BH see the advice of all, and Maureen’s threat, the BH agreed to my father’s choice and R’s going to be a very lucky boy! Many thanks to all.

** Yes, this is sarcasm.

*** Husbands are like Labradors, all for sticking around when the going is fun, but when they spot something they’re rather not witness they silently slink along the wall looking for the nearest exit. Of course once cornered they don’t put up much of a fight ;o)