... a photo I'd just taken of her on our Christmas walk, Ma Specs_Beard was moved to comment:

'I should probably keep my mouth shut a lot more often.'

On receiving my second pair of slippers this Christmas. I already own 2 pairs.

I can never have enough slippers in case my Japanese friends decide to visit....

But your attitude to west life is to be applauded :)

Alas my Christmas was not as much fun as I would have wished, it was the complete opposite in fact. It was low on laughs...they can be a dour bunch at times and this year was Calvinism at it's finest and further proof that being the only woman in my immediate family is hell. I tried hard to cater for their every whim, to "empower" them by inviting them to contribute financially towards the groceries and to help prepare the meal...nope.
I did the cooking as per - turned out beautifully by the way - except I forgot to buy all the ingredients to make the planned Chocolate Roulade so I showed them a picture of one instead.

The dinner conversations were rich, engaging and varied: Having the 2nd sight, removal and disposal of an awkward tree root in 1967, being slapped by a Dentist in 1956, a Colonoscopy...the list goes on.

Halfway through the afternoon, the chat became more and more morose, my mood was dipping further, I felt 14 again. Then my Uncle said "Ohh I wonder when the Pandas in Edinburgh Zoo will..." - "breed?" I hear you say...oh no no.. "I WONDER WHEN THE PANDAS IN EDINBURGH ZOO WILL DIE" and that my dear friends was the quote of the day, so coated in bleak I curled up and laughed til I was breathless.

Here's to next Christmas being so much better (might even get some presents next time!)

At Christmas house in Devon with my parents brother and both sisters andall their children. Mum asked me if I wanted a drink.
"I'll have a soft drink please" I replied
"Orange Juice, Lemonade, Apple juice or Beer?"

Since when has beer been a 'soft drink?'

So phrase heard all over Christmas has been "I'll have a soft drink"

Mother, after a champagne supernova between starters and main course.

I particularly enjoyed this Christmas Day tweet by a pal: "That's the 'gays debate' covered by the relatives over 60. Next up, religion. I plan on being comatose come immigration."

...on having rolled up left trouser leg and now peering at his calf;

"I think that asthma on my leg has come back".

This was BEFORE he'd had a drink.

before Christmas I have been asking my wife "Do you want some Mace?" (the spice, not the tear gas spray stuff)

I bought her some, fully gift wrapped and tagged (looked like a bottle of perfume, so the disappointed look was noticeable).

The phrase "would this taste any better with some Mace?" has been fairly well used.

(Getting a bit boring now, so I may stop the mace-based japery and start again in the new year with Asafoetida)

Nice thread Drakey, nothing gives one greater pleasure than cooking Christmas dinner. Two quotes from my mother today, as we dined with my brother's family:

"All your Aunt Irene (sadly now deceased) ever wanted in life was a family. But when they came (two sons) they gave her nothing but trouble.It took her a long time to forgive George (her husband) for getting a toilet plunger stuck on his forehead, whilst entertaining the kids.He had an angry red ring on his head for weeks after!"

"Aunt Peril never looked or smelt clean, even after having a bath. She was also the worse cook I have ever known!"

Overheard on the train on the way into work in central London, the day before Christmas Eve. Two what-I-would-describe-as upper middle class women discussing Christmas shopping. One says to the other: "Have you been to that discount outlet in the village? I say 'discount', but it does some nice stuff. I got a lovely (indecipherable designer name) bag. It was fifteen hundred, they were selling it for six hundred. I thought that was a jolly good discount, actually."

You can't argue with her.

"The meal turned up trumps. I blame the sprouts".... quite the funniest thing I have heard for a long time.... just about to stop laffing now, I think. Very very good.
From my Partners Mother (77yo) last Xmas... "I bumped into my cousin M****** last week. She is blond now. Of course, the older she gets, the blonder she gets... next year she will resemble a geriatric Marlyn Monroe I should think".
Also last year one of my mates bought his wife an ironing board for Xmas.... big box, wrapping paper, ribbons,the lot . Mrs Mac went doolally, and refused to speak to Iain all day, and all off the next one, even after the real main present was offered, which she threw into the rubbish bin without opening it.
I think he bought her perfume and a Next voucher this year......

post Christmas Dinner.....

Question Master: "Name 5 words beginning with 'micro'"

The Boy (5 yrs old): "Microscope. Microwave. Microphone. Microchip. Micro Jackson."

Dat's ma boy!

is too long for my wine addled brain to recall correctly, but on Sunday after one jibe too many from my mother in law about the White Stripes/QOST/Foo Fighters not being 'music', my niece then proceeded to list out rhythm, melody, tone, timbre, harmony, musical notation, scales, instrumentation and all the usual constituents that make rock choons technically match M-I-L's beloved classical.

I've yet to establish whether it was the noise that made her walk out of the room or the fact she had been out manoeuvred by a 12 year old. oops

I am NEVER doing another fucking Christmas with you!!!" or something like that

watches me peering at a laptop screen, over the top of my specs, trying to show my dad pics of his granddaughters on Facebook ...

"Shouldn't those glasses be up your nose?" she asked...

...it's all shit".

So said my daughter when someone suggested we needed some music to accompany the Christmas dinner.

and Grandad triumphed once again. At 8.30 am on Christmas morning he insisted we start the day with a Bucks Fizz. There were murmurings from some that it was a little early, but the flutes were dutifully filled with Moet and jugo de naranja.

Moments later I caught him on his own in the kitchen. 'I don't like Bucks Fizz, so I'm going to have something else' he said innocently, as he poured half a bottle of Rioja into a massive glass.

Needless to say he didn't make the Queen's speech.

"This is the best Christmas EVER"

It wasn't. It was a rancorous, poison filled weekend spent with my ex and him. I was on the point of tears on more than one occasion. And that before you throw in the fact that the turbo blew on the car on the way down.

But you know what? He thought it was. And that was all that counts.

I (on request) provided a precis of what the footballer has been accused of, moderating the accusation to the acronym 'FBC' to avoid offence. This is at 8pm, so the kids are still up and about and totally buzzed about presents the next day.

My mother immediately replied "oh, no, I thought he said w*g".

My youngest nephew is 9. I may try to make other plans next year.

Mrs. Wardour and I decided to spend this Christmas on our own. It's the first time in years we've done this, and the amount of emotional blackmail that has been heaped upon us from our families for our selfish behaviour has been immense.

For a change, we decided to have our Christmas dinner around 7pm (whereas this is roughly the time our families are heaping out the trifle and sandwiches, following a 5,000 calorie special at lunchtime.)

Judging from the number of phone calls and texts we received from my folks asking us if we REALLY hadn't eaten yet, you'd think they had nothing better to do.

Note to self for next time: switch the phone off.

has been uccuring between my brother in law and his ex. She has refused him access to his son(6yrs) over xmas as he has left her to set a new life with an upstairs neighbour.
So when he arrived fairly late on Xmas day(drinks had been consumed)I then addressed his new lady by the name of his previous! It was a party stopper, I waited for the hole to swallow me up.

On the plus side the rest of our families have been laughing about it for two days now.

1987 three days ago, walking through Prague I said to my wife:

"C&A don't open on Christmas Day."

Are there any other 'dead' brands in Britain still alive elsewhere?

After half an hour, the Ex's octogenarian father, legendary for his plummy put-downs, has just uttered the immortal words, "When's the fucking thing going to start?"

No specific quote, but the most commonly heard words from my Mother-in-Law over the festive period were, "I don't mind [blank] but I wouldn't choose it/them," where '[blank]' could be replaced by any of the following and more besides:

- olives
- red wine
- dessert wine
- sherbert lemons
- chilli nuts
- sweet potato
- smoked salmon & bagels
- Assam tea
- filter coffee
- pasta (pasta?!)

Oh, and Heston Blumenthal's mince pies with pine sugar, but I'm with her on that one: they were gross.

My mother: 'Large amounts of this Christmas seem to have been written by Alan Ayckbourn'.
Me: 'Only entertaining if you're over sixty?'

OK, I didn't say it - but I thought it.

chasing the children round the kitchen with the raw turkey neck shouting "TURKEY WILLY!"
A few hours later my mum gazed into the pan containing said item, and was moved to comment "It looks like the lazy might be a bit grumpy"

(She was trying to say "it looks like the gravy might be a bit lumpy". She was apparently beyond a simple spoonerism by lunchtime).

who live in the same village as my parents. I knew nobody and ended up talking with a cat lover. "Evil, manipulative bastards," said I, before knowing of her feline affection. That went down well.

Nice mini sausages though, which was something.

'I wonder what lesbians do for Christmas?'

'Boxing Day's just Sunday with nuts on the side'

As some of you may be aware I'm originally from the North East but have been resident in the Home Counties for some years.

My accent has softened but at times it strangely manifests as very broad.

One morning just before Christmas our little 6 year old home counties born daughter was sat in her 'jamas watching a film about a little puppet boy who became real. It was all new to her.

'What's this called, Daddy?' she piped.

Lost in a book at the breakfast table I looked up quickly and mumbled, 'It's Pinnerkeeyerrr (Pinocchio) I think'

She looked utterly bemused. 'Pinnerkeeyerr?' she repeated screwing her face up. Then realisation dawned and she shouted in the crystal clear tones of one brought up in The Royal Borough, 'Oh! Pinocchio!'

Her mother (from Coventry as it happens) doubled up with laughter and has been giggling about it ever since.