Читать книгу The Baby Diaries - Sam Binnie - Страница 24

Oh, advent calendar joy! When we were very little, Susie and I had a fabric advent calendar each which Mum had made, and which she and Dad would then fill with all sorts of gifts. When Dad had to travel with work, the calendar would include little German Christmas decorations, American sweets or even just miniature hotel jars of jam, while Mum would provide pound coins, lip glosses, single chocolates and hair clips. Despite the fact that we are far too old to indulge in such things, Mum still delivers the bags of twenty-five gifts each November 30th, with each tiny parcel numbered, so Susie and I don’t spoil one another’s surprises, although now the calendars are obviously filled with gifts for Thom, Pete, the Twins and Frida too.

Thom and I had spent last night diligently filling each pocket with the numbered parcels, and I was allowed to string the fairy lights around the bookshelves (but not turn them on). This morning, I leapt out of bed to open the first one.

Me: A hair clip!

Thom: [grumpily] Yours.

Me: Ahh, is someone feeling left out of the widdel advent caw-endar?

Thom: I hope you’re not going to talk to my child like that.

I always hug myself when he says something like that. If all goes well – a phrase I think to myself a hundred times a day – we’ll be celebrating next Christmas with three of us here. Three! Our baby! Wait. I got too excited too quickly. Won’t it just pull down the tree? Eat all the presents? Mmmm. Still not ready for this.