A very merry Christmas (complete with a Santa)

This year, Doobs and I visited Mr. and Mrs. Pooks for Christmas. We figured a little get together over the holiday season, maybe a couple of presents, and just most importantly a weekend together at the Pooks'. We had NOT figured how the Pooks would embrace the season with such a fever of flurry and frenzy.

But suddenly there we were at the train station, and Mrs. Pooks leapt out of her car to pick us up - dressed like Santa no less. "Mrs. Pooks, we're so excited!" we exclaimed, giving her hugs.
"Oh there's more, let's quickly head home!"
And then when we got home, we were greeted with further festivities and frolic. There was wine to be drunk. And food to be barbecued. And cookies to be baked. And a gingerbread house to be built (my first ever, and I maintain that it was a masterpiece - albeit inedible).

And after we'd completed six hours of continuous ingestion and imbibation, there still remained more wine to be drunk. And more cookies to be eaten. And, most importantly, presents to be opened (!!!!).

So that when we were finally on the train back home the following day, we rubbed our bellies and sighed to ourselves in replete satisfaction. "What a lovely Christmas!"
"How nice of Mr. and Mrs. Pooks!"
And we could feel it sink in, what Christmas was all about (the friends, I mean, not the food), and how lucky we were to be a part of it.