Christmas costumes

None of my children has any red clothes. Daughter one’s look is too cool for red. I have an old red Primark dress which I have clung onto despite it having rips in it. I’m waiting for ripped dresses to come in after the ripped jeans look. I couldn’t bring myself to sacrifice it in the interests of drama.

Then my eye alighted on a red and black dress my partner had bought me some time ago and which I have not worn for a while [mainly because it is under all of his clothes in the wardrobe]. It was perfect. I cut it up and sewed it into a tunic. I added a cloak made out of an old red blind with a broach and a gold necklace from Poundland with gold leaves on it as a headdress. Then I cut some cardboard into feet shapes and threaded string through them. Only son tried on the ensemble. He looked like a very small and somewhat sweeter version of Julius Caesar.

“Is that the dress I gave you for Christmas the other year?” my partner asked suspiciously. “I will never give you another present.”  “It’s okay, mum,” said only son, brandishing a sack of presents. “I have got you LOTS of presents.” Only son has been watching daughter three’s elaborate Christmas hunt which involves her dad seeking out a Christmas present for every one of the 24 days of December before Christmas.

Only son felt that was a bit unfair on his mum and has been hidden away wrapping up random stuff from around the house and putting it in his sack. I’m a bit worried that essential things like keys might be in the sack. Last night I was looking for a pen which is fairly essential if you are a journalist. There had been two on my desk just 24 hours before. “Any idea where the pens are?” I asked. Only son looked at me with his big brown eyes. “I think you might be very excited about what is in my sack, mum,” he said.