I suppose, in hindsight, my expectations were far too high. I mean I'd put in my requests; slippers and a dvd, a trip to the Mall had been made by hubby. Everything seemed to be in place.
The day began badly, at 5am, with all children present, accounted for, demanding porridge, and having howling tantrums when it didn't arrive pronto. There went my lie in with a cup of tea.
Checked my emails, didn't even get a digest from a chat loop - proving that I am completely unloved in cyberspace, and returned to be presented with two cards. Pink in pink envelopes. Very pretty. Duly signed by children in hubby's writing. Lovely.
But no presents.
Apparantly if I want slippers I can go to the Mall and buy them myself.
Exhausted and not in the prettiest of moods I retreated to the spare room (still no tea) where I lay for an hour listening to the kids screaming at each other. Marvellous.
Re-emerge, finally tea. Spend rest of morning dealing with shattered children who got up too early.
Wander outside. Neighbours yappy rat things immediatly starts yapping. Loudly tell neighbour exactly what I think of her yappy rat thing after three years of being polite about it.
Mother arrives for her lunch to find house in chaos and Hubby and I still in pyjamas.
Get dressed. Provide excellent lunch - all of which I bought the day before.
Hubby slopes off for four hour nap.
Spend quality time with mother and children - which is good, no really, I'm not being sarcastic, it was good. I do quite like them.
Hubby gets up in time to watch me cook dinner. Not the standing rib roast with all the trimming, no. Baked beans, scrambled egg and toast. mmmm.
Oh well. Maybe I'll be appreciated next year.