Happy New Year!

Ironically speaking, that is. My little bro pursuaded us to watch Marley and me. Plot spoiler allert. The dog died on the stroke of midnight. We welcomed in the new year in a hushed stupor sprinkled with sniffles and cheek-wiping. At 5 past the hour we put London on the telly, got out the sparklers, sang Auld Lang Syne with Champagne up in my Mum's bedroom (my poor Mum has had a nasty bug for ALL of the Christmas season), then hit the garden for some fireworks found up in the attic. not too spectacular but fun none the less! Then I span my glo-poi for a while, and as if by magic when we decided it was time to retire to bed, the kids woke up! We got them out of bed for a dancing party, hoping to wear the nippers out in the vain hope of a lie-in, then at around 2.30am we got the big one off to sleep, then the little one woke up screaming and woke him up. This cycle repeated 3 times, and culminated in myself, my brother and my sister Begging the Boo to get in to bed at 4am, and my bro eventually getting him to sleep on the sofa sometime after 4. All suitably zombified for our pub carvery the next day!