I'm going to close my eyes and pretend this is my life. Although I don't think it's physically possible to have a family this good looking. And somehow I don't think my life is going to be filled with strolling in the snow clutching the hand of some hottie and nonchalantly looking over my shoulder because that's what people do at Christmas, apparently.
So, I'm probably not going to be spending this Christmas with my sickeningly adorable offspring and at dinner parties. I'm probably going to be sleeping and eating as much chocolate as possible without spewing. Class. I have it.
Christmas never seems to inspire anything that festive within me, though. No Holiday season goblin is ever awoken from its deep slumber inside the walls of my skin. I remember when I was younger my family would drive around and cruise Sydney just to see the lights that people put up. There was a house in my neighbourhood that won awards and shit, and going within a 10km radius of it was like swallowing mistletoe and a light bulb. But they took the decorations down, because it cost too much. The world is a depressing place, sometimes.
This Christmas I want to try get a photo with those shopping mall Santas. And maybe hunt some reindeer. And possibly fashion myself underwear made out of tinsel.