And all round the house

    Nothing is stirring

    Not even that fucking cat.

    Yes, it’s Christmas Eve and we have a very, very full house. The mother-in-law has occupied a chair and is sitting in the middle of an ever-expanding pile of crap, brother-in-law is quietly sat in the dining room doing the crossword, Mrs. Snowman is in the kitchen preparing meal that will feed a small African country and I’m sat with the lap top ploughing my way through a case of lager.

    In addition to this scene of domestic bliss, we have a small child screaming at a decibel level sufficient to perforate elephant’s eardrums, a surrogate daughter and husband unpacking several tons of clothing and every conceivable child’s toy and accessory scattered across the ground floor of the house.

    It’s little wonder that lager will make way for something a little stronger and the vodka will soon have a prolonged meeting with my stomach.

    We finally got to Heathrow airport this morning to collect the new family members and after dropping them off at home went to the local Mothercare to buy a few things required for a small baby.

    This was a new experience for me and one that hopefully won’t happen again. The store was full of revolting young kids running around like a troop of hyperactive monkeys, oblivious to the continual shouting from their mothers. A putrid smell wafted into my nostrils as I glanced to one side of the store where a small boy had quite clearly shit himself. The odour had obviously reached another infant who was stood by a display of toy dinosaurs because he coughed once and performed the most spectacular projectile vomit I’ve ever seen.

    The remarkable thing about this entire episode was the reaction of the staff. They carried on as though it was nothing out of the ordinary and within seconds the poo and puke were miraculously cleared up. I don’t know what happened after that because I ran back to the car and locked myself in leaving Mrs. Snowman to obtain whatever it was that was needed.

    Several large and expensive looking boxes were loaded into the trunk and we set off for home once more. It was only after we got back that I found the receipt.

    The combined cost of the items was only slightly less than the price of the car they were transported back in. Kids are very expensive to have around so I have therefore come up with yet another brilliant moneymaking scheme.

    “The Snowman Baby Leasing Agency”

    There must be hundreds of people who would require the temporary presence of a small child for a host of reasons: film producers making horror movies, young women trying to break off engagements with tiresome partners, scientists researching the ratio between shit volume and food consumption in babies.

    Riches are just a round the corner.

    However, if today’s poker has riches around a corner it must be a fucking big one. I started with the 2c/4c tables and pretty soon three investments of $4 evaporated into other people’s accounts. Things were not going particularly well so I reverted to the 1c/2c tables and made up some ground on my losses. Overall I was down on the day but as tomorrow is Christmas Day I’m hoping many of my opponents will be full of spirits and therefore playing to a standard where I might be able to win.

    Or not.

    And so another Christmas looms and once more I will be awoken at 5.00am by an excited wife keen to open her presents and make sure I don’t hit the bottle before breakfast. One thing that will be hit before breakfast is the cat…and not by me. Small child is fascinated by it and has already pulled its tail with such vigour that it almost came away. The only thing that worries me is that the cat and small child may gang up together and turn their attention towards me, should this happen you’ll find the next post written from a room with soft walls.

Starting bank:  $0