Well, that’s it for another year. We have, over the last three days, over indulged in almost everything, and rolled ourselves in and out of bed with an enthusiasm only reserved for Christmas. At last we are safely snuggled up in front of the fire at home with only one minor crisis now behind us. That of losing Boba Fett, the wee boy’s Santa present.
The thing about going away for Christmas is that everything needs to be packed up, which we duly did this morning. The whole floor space was checked over to make sure that not one iota of paper, small piece of lego, or sparkly thing was left behind. So imagine our surprise when, on returning home, we couldn’t find Boba.
All the bags were emptied with an increased fervour, some may call it panic, as it gradually dawned on us that we may have thrown him away, inadvertently, with the copious amounts of recycling that we conscientiously disposed of.
However, we live in an age where telephone calls can be made, and actions put into place. Situations such as this also serve to remind us that actually, most gifts are replaceable.
Thankfully Boba has been found, hiding behind cushions in the cottage. Easy to lose, you might think. Therefore, it is only right I point out that he is a three dimensional figure, who is approximately 40cm tall.
I know, incredible.
Anyway, all is now as it should be and we have absolutely nothing to do except lounge around, eating chocolate.
Being Nigella 