One of the first things I noticed about Georgie when he first started school last year was his hesitation in telling me how his day was. I realised things had gone from bad to worse when the other day after an afternoon lesson he huffed and puffed and finally said: I don’t have to tell you everything! Let’s skip that in ten years a remark like that will probably scar me for life and go straight to the fact that it was obvious I was asking the wrong question.
Almost two years ago, while I was researching our Christmas trip to Paris, which never happened in December but in April instead, I discovered something that changed my life.
How to make proper hot chocolate. The French way. You see, there’s something special about this picture: curling up on the sofa with the warmth of the fireplace on your cheeks sipping on a mug of hot chocolate. But in order for this picture to be perfect you need this secret ingredient. Believe me.
It’s Christmas Eve! And I am staring at lists of things to do, half-watching Christmas cartoons with Georgie and waiting for papa to bring home lunch so I can get started on those cookies, which we made bright and early this morning for Santa. Christmas music has been playing non-stop, family members have been coming and going all day in preparation for tomorrow’s feast and we’re all looking forward to tonight’s traditional family gathering at my parent’s house. My mum will be cooking, the kids will be rehearsing their annual Christmas Day show while the rest will probably be fighting over which movie we should all watch. Hooray for Christmas!!!
