No Grit, I am not turning into a naturist for Christmas. This is a far more bizarre story than that, and it is to do with family.
Up to now there had been some talk of my partner and I spending Christmas eve and Night at her daughters home. Reluctantly (me prefering my own home at Christmas) I said I would think about it. In an effort to persuade me of the benefits, I was invited to the daughter’s house to see the wonderful decorations. Dutifully, I agreed and off we set. Guess what I was faced with as I entered the lounge…. That’s right, a pink tree. And, as if that was not bad enough, all of the decorations were pink as well, all over the house!
My partner said that it was only downstairs after all. Oh no it wasn’t. To colour co-ordinate the whole house, the daughter had gone on a “pink” spree. Pink bedclothes, with matching cushions and drapes in the bedroom (where we were expected to sleep); Pink picture frames replaced the wooden ones in the hall and stairway and there was even a pink fluffy animal toilet roll holder. I felt like Barbie’s Ken.
Guess where we are not spending Christmas