unable to drive I am confined to nottingham. this means lunch with pink sis, her autistic heavy metal drummer son*, his hypochondriac fiancee and her dysfunctional parents in a dodgy pub 
I sometimes spell Christmas with a small c Miss D, just as I spell god with a small g. I do this because I am not a believer.
* bald with a mullet
I wonder if any on here really enjoy Christmas. So come on VPers confession time.
I had to hand my driving licence in several years ago.
Mr C is currently unable to drive.
Luckily he has fallen out with his parents. So it is Christmas here. I like the fact that there will be no children here but I don't like the idea that we are pretty much confined to barracks.
We can (and have) use public transport but the bus drivers round here understandably delight in playing that old favourite 'see if you can topple the spassies on crutches or walking sticks'.
Mr C cannot do much around the house and needs help dressing therefore my workload (such as it is some might say) has more than doubled.
So I for one am not looking forward to it.
On the up side however, I do not have to go into heaving supermarkets and get wound up by the commercialism there and watch people falling for it and cramming their trolley's with crap.
Bahh humbug.
