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Sunday, December 05, 2004


When Mommy Fell Down The Christmas Tree... 

Blogsister and winner of the best of the top 1000 to 1750 blogs- if -I -have- anything- to- do- with- it, Boudicca, of Boudicca's voice, has a great post up about her Christmas tree.

Are you still here? I'm not telling you the story until you've voted. And go vote for Harvey while you're at it.

Thanks. O.K, I'll begin.

Actually, it's not that good a story, but if it got you voting, I don't care.

Tara must have been about two years old. I'd returned from a kid's Christmas Party at the social club my Dad used to run. This event was the single, solitary holiday evening out for me that Christmas. Needless to say, I had a couple of glasses of wine. As I was crossing the living room to get some coffee before putting Tara to bed, a ceiling decoration fell down. Thinking that this would not be a problem, I promptly dragged a chair over to the area and...

Total loss of balance.

You know how, when you're in danger, time slows right down? In that split second, I found myself facing the choice of falling:

a) On Tara
b) Through the French Windows
c) On the Christmas tree.

I chose the latter. And escaped miraculously unscathed.

My friend, V, called me the next day, and Tara answered. The first words out of her mouth were, "Mommy fell down the Christmas tree!". I was so mortified. V has known me since my childless and reckless days. She said she had a vision of me trying to climb up the tree, and, when I was living with my Irish room-mate, that's exactly the sort of stunt we'd pull after "just the one" in the pub after work. She couldn't stop laughing.

Kids...They'll grass you up every time...



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