Christmas on the front line

Sorry for the missed blog post last night, I was busy returning to my childhood with my friend at Olympia like the two pony mad youngsters we were and in many ways still are. We had a selfie taken with showjumper John Whitaker, which was a bit weird as we felt we were standing next to the sculpture of a jumping God rather than a Northern man, he wore the expression of someone who considered publicity to be a necessary evil. I cant blame him, plus it helps the macho male image if you are a little bit reluctant. I like the strong, silent type.

However, I have a strong, nagging type. I asked him to do two things for Christmas (get the children’s FC presents). He didnt have to think about family, friends or even me (as I bought myself my own present from him). So here we are on the 19th December with half a present for baby boy (a train but no track) and a present that appears to have disappeared through the Bermuda Triangle of eBay purchases. It is cutting it rather fine to panic buy an RC RNLI boat if ‘it doesnt arrive by Monday’. I refuse to help him on this one, like a child who needs to learn the hard way, if he knows I wont save the situation then he will have to pull his finger out.

And they say women have to wait until at least 2016 before they can engage in frontline combat (a marine said the main reason was that women lack ‘the killer instinct’. I’d like to see him try his luck if he failed to get a child’s Christmas present on time…

This blog is for Unicef.

Thanks for reading.