So, was it worth it?

You bet your (fluffy) arse it was worth it.

Forget all the allegations of extreme commercialism.

I am more preoccupied with worth and value.
Was it worth it? Abso-shaggin-lutely

The kids got the magic.
The adults got the magic.
A beautiful Christmas walk was walked.
Deliciously bubbly champagne was drunk.
Great food was ingested.
In too large quantities, yes, and? Do I regret it for for a single second? Abso-shaggin-lutely not.
The conversation flowed and there were many laughs.

More great wine was drunk.

Many stories were told: The day Nana missed the ferry and a rally driver took her Yaris across England. The day Dad went to school at half past midnight in half a meter of snow. The day Mounette peed on Pepe Jean-Claude. The day Pepe, his mum and brothers and sisters got back home to Holybank Road in a Kirwan hearse after the Boss forgot to collect them in Malahide.

A Christmas pudding was torched to a cinder.
Carlos Primero cognac was drunk from champagne flutes and Sinatra entered the building. Unfortunately he stayed and would not leave.

When I put Mimi to bed, I asked her if she had had a good Christmas.
She told me that she had had a GREAT Christmas.

When I asked her what the best bit was, she had to think for a little while. I was wondering if it would be the Clawdine Wolf-tart outfit, the Lego Highschool or the alarm clock.
I felt my eye get misty when she finally decided "the best bit was the story time!"

Commercialism, my fluffy arse.

Christmas from 07:00 to 00:05 in 70 shots