So Christmas Day was weird. It all started very nicely with an exchange of stockings with Emma at her parent’s house. I got lots of Simon’s Cat things and Emma got lots of crafty things, some of which, very small and wrapped individually. Then things took a downward turn, and the cold that Emma had been nursing for a few days became, if not then very much like, an attack of norovirus and she was forced to retreat to bed for most of the day and missed out on much of the present giving, the entirety of Christmas lunch with her family, and of enjoying her first neice’s first Christmas. 🙁
Apparently I was brilliant throughout and helpful and kind, although my perception that I was a right moody one, perpetually feeling guilty for enjoying Christmas downstairs whilst Emma was maroooned upstairs.
Today, Emma has been slowly improving. I set up the new speakers that Emma’s dad found for us in the garage to the new TV with woefully tinny sound so that she could enjoy yesterdays Strictly Come Dancing Christmas special, and the conclusion of Merlin. Now she’s gone back to bed to rest and recuperate, and I have been rewatching Carols from Kings, reading my books in front of the tree, and catching up on my journal. Now I’m going to go and finish cooking a cold Christmas dinner for Emma.