The first Christmas meals

Today was the first family Christmas dinner of the season... yes there is normally more than one... and His work's do. As all one's favourite food turns up on a Christmas table that is a good thing J So with high hopes off we toddled down the hall to join His sister and the grandchild for lunch. Actually that isn't quite what happened so allow one to back track somewhat.

Arriving home hot and sweaty from the gym one found out that the grandchild was having her Christmas presents before lunch and we were expected there kinda now. Just the thought of childish shrieks of joy was enough to send one all a quiver, so dispatching Him as representative one hastened to the shower... where one lingered for an indecent amount of time before putting on a load of laundry. Hey with the big M comes the big R for responsibility. Beside as one always says if we ever separate He gets his family back... they are all his J

Wandering down there one discovered an ecstatic child, and more importantly, no lunch. Where's the food one enquired in an aggrieved voice. Honestly this was shaping up to be the worst bait and switch imaginable. In the oven was the reply. Smelling the worst one scampered over to peer in, before asking you mean the turkey that is burning in here? There was an almighty scramble and while they were engaged in bird rescue, one scampered back up to our end to forage for a snack.

He came to winkle one out of the study with the promise that lunch was back on track and so off we went once more... to discover His brother on Skype and his mother once more neglecting lunch preparations. Scowling one gathered food, with His sister in tow, and started laying out lunch. Burnt bird is one thing, cold burnt bird is a hard limit. It was then we found that not only did the child have a seating plan, but she had made place cards so there was no confusion. And so we started lunch... with His brother not getting the hint at all... until they eventually said their goodbyes and joined us.

Afterwards we demolished Christmas crackers (bon bons) and He pulled poppers while the child scampered after the streamers. Oh look she cried. They're purple! That's (one small slaves) favourite colour.

That child is a freak... a scary little four year old freak, who is going to go on to be a domme.

He sat there snickering...

Bastard!

Later in the evening we toddled out for the work dinner. Now generally we hate them... all of them. But there is food... well there is supposed to be food. Of course we hit the place on the night of their work do and it was staffed with ringers. This may account for why the bathrooms were awash, and a check of the door revealed a sign proudly stating they were checked at 1.45, which was about six hours ago by that stage. It may also account for why one salad sat there the entire evening without being replenished... though one isn't sure that you can call three limp lettuce leaves and two chunks of tomato a salad. Not to mention someone had eaten all the shrimp and salmon out of it.

In fact by the time the meals did arrive, well most of them turned up, most of us were hungry and surly... more so than usual for a work do. It was such a shemozzle that the place actually gave two of them a 15% off voucher for their next meal. Unfortunately as it is Christmas, they were unlikely to be of any use in the week they were valid for. So while they sat around laughing at the idea, some of us went to get desert... to find there was none left. That was when the collective howl of displeasure went up and we ended up with some comped meals for next time.

To be honest the only bright spark of the evening was the fact that the ankle allowed one to wear the dress and shoes one picked up a couple of months ago. So yay for persistence and exercise J And a big boo for the food providers for the day. They collectively sucked the joy out of the only bright spot of this time of the year L

Bastards!