Silence

Silence? No Sir! Not in this house today.

The family is back for Christmas. But it’s not the Grandweans that are causing the riots. They are playing quietly, and drawing, and following the cat around, and generally being lovely. It’s the sons and foster sons. They all get together and the noise levels go up on the richter scale.

A lot of that noise is created from the sheer joy of persecuting their poor old father. Oh yes, the Spirit of Christmas is being given a battering! And I, the Father of Christmas, as far as my own children are concerned, is right in the middle of the metaphorical snowball fight.

No mercy.

And it’s a truly beautiful thing to behold, from this old Santa’s point of view.
Enough to make the white hairs on my beard glisten and the “Ho Ho Ho’s!” boom forth.

I’ve mentioned many times before what a lucky fella I am. And I am. There are no two ways about it. And here, hidden away from the mayhem in my bedroom, writing this blog, I get a couple of moments to enjoy the glow of all of that.

Silence is often bliss, and it will be again.

But for now let the Glorious Cacophony reign.