Gerry
12-20-2007, 07:45 PM
Santa had been sorted starting way back in August with bikes and stuff all put aside and paid up for every month as soon as the pay cheque arrived. All the lists were kept to make sure that every child got exactly the same number of treats from Santa and that the money Santa paid was equal in each case. I reckon the Chancellor of the Exchequer didn't take as much care as my wife.
The kitchen cupboards had been filled to over flowing as ever week for months a few extra wee treats had been bought to make it special.
Then the week before Christmas we took all the bonus points, gathered up over the year each time we filled up the car with petrol, into Marks and Spencer's food hall. We would take a shopping trolley in with us. Just once a year did we dare enter that hallowed hall of the blue rinse brigade and Prada wearing kept women of the town.
By Gerry Temple
We knew exactly how much we had to spend and boy did we enjoy spending it. All those fancy treats you couldn't get anywhere else were totted up in the mathematicians brain so there were no red faces at the check out. To the last penny that trolley got filled with honey roasted tinned ham, luxury Scottish shortbread with chocolate chips, smoked salmon slices, pecan pie, Belgium chocolates, dark chocolate coated ginger, ohhhh my mouth waters.
Then proudly displaying our M&S bags stuffed full of goodies the cafe over looking the busy throng of shoppers was next on the list. We would sit, by a window seat of course, with our trophy bags on show to the world and savour the aroma of freshly ground coffee and sweet cakes.
Two luxury cups of their best were ordered and we'd sip and munch as if this was a normal everyday event for, us rich.
As we walked home in the drizzle we knew the big day was very close, and it only took us a year to save for it.
The kitchen cupboards had been filled to over flowing as ever week for months a few extra wee treats had been bought to make it special.
Then the week before Christmas we took all the bonus points, gathered up over the year each time we filled up the car with petrol, into Marks and Spencer's food hall. We would take a shopping trolley in with us. Just once a year did we dare enter that hallowed hall of the blue rinse brigade and Prada wearing kept women of the town.
By Gerry Temple
We knew exactly how much we had to spend and boy did we enjoy spending it. All those fancy treats you couldn't get anywhere else were totted up in the mathematicians brain so there were no red faces at the check out. To the last penny that trolley got filled with honey roasted tinned ham, luxury Scottish shortbread with chocolate chips, smoked salmon slices, pecan pie, Belgium chocolates, dark chocolate coated ginger, ohhhh my mouth waters.
Then proudly displaying our M&S bags stuffed full of goodies the cafe over looking the busy throng of shoppers was next on the list. We would sit, by a window seat of course, with our trophy bags on show to the world and savour the aroma of freshly ground coffee and sweet cakes.
Two luxury cups of their best were ordered and we'd sip and munch as if this was a normal everyday event for, us rich.
As we walked home in the drizzle we knew the big day was very close, and it only took us a year to save for it.