Well, the little sprog got a camera for Christmas. At which point she took 184 photos in a few short spurts in between playing with all the other stuff that showed up in our house.
So here's the first photo she took. It's called Presents:Wave One. Our modest little pile was overshadowed a few hours later when the whole in-law family showed up with an absurd amount of stuff.
Right in the face. Which is surprising because after he opened a few things he didn't look up from cars and trains most of the morning.
One of the toys extended family got for my daughter. She helpfully woke up in the wee hours last night to tell me that the World's Tinniest Man was driving this (his car) around her room so she couldn't sleep.
Obviously we had the fire on all day. And I'm glad to say my kids didn't display any Oxygen Thief like tendencies by trying to stuff ripped-off wrapping paper into the television screen.
The boy has been strutting around like a rooster since he got his new underpants. Six pairs of these. So now we get to see what kind of human being he is. He's either someone motivated to go to the toilet to keep his shiny new knickers clean, or he's the kind of person who takes great satisfaction in curling one out into the smiling open mouths of anthropomorphic talking trains.
I don't know how you do your stockings. In my wife's family their tradition is to put a few gifts in (with the obligatory on-the-go sized can of WD40 a must) and some nuts, an orange and an apple. I can't remember anything but mountains of chocolate growing up to be honest. So I went half way and did some little gifts, the yearly massive pencil, some fruit and a rock-fall gathering of chocolate nonsense. The Toblerone made it to the kids. The Terry's Chocolate Orange didn't.
The first self-portrait. And a glimpse of what she'll actually look like as an adult. Which sadly according to my wife is drunk.
Santa is pretty thoughtful. He brought each kid a really good quality sleeping bag for when they go camping. Maybe even for sleepovers. My wife got the same when she was around the same age as my daughter and her sleeping bag is as good as new.
That's me sorted. My wife got me this in an attempt to have me not drink nearly two pots of coffee each day. Oddly there's no photo of my wife's main gift which was a Le Creuset 5.5 quart dutch oven.
This is what my daughter asked for over and over. When she was given it she didn't know what it was. Not the slightest clue. When told what it was she went bonkers with happiness. Which is the sort of commercial orgasm marketing firms aim for I fear. Who cares what it is and if it's any good. As long as people want it. Steve Jobs did a flip of joy in his grave.
And then Presents:Wave Two began. Eeek. I decided to skip all those and move on. Too many to sort through.
One of the desserts. Good work wife.
At which point my daughter took a series of shots of the meringue-mushroom on an adventure around the house. It looks like a ghost has pooed on my kitchen counter.
Last one - the decorations came down, the house put back together and the tree was chucked out the front door. And the horse came back.