(no subject)

I lost the last snowball fight of the Holiday season the second Tadpole, who was running after me with a snowball in her hand, tripped over her own feet and fell flat on her belly in the snow. I went over and extended a helping hand to get her back up on her feet, and she ignored it altogether and threw the ball straight into my neck instead, the little rascal. She was very unapologetic about it, too.

There is nothing quite like hearing your husband HOWL with laughter, while feeling a naughty ice-cube trickle its wet way straight into your bra, to make you realize that lo, you've been tricked again.

Though of course, snow season isn't over and I guess I may have a chance to get my revenge at a later date, I am also very aware that chances are I'll be the loser again. If just because the little ones enjoy winning a lot more than I do just please keep those snowballs away from any actual entry point inside my clothes

In other news, I am as always grateful for the French custom that gives us until end of January to give our Best Wishes for the New Year. See, French people have little time to devote to writing cards and suchlikes in December, given the complexity of French end-of-year gastronomic festivities (and we are tradictionally more interested in food than in anything else, so we take care of the food part first, and the Good Wishes later). So according to French étiquette I am not even late in wishing you all a HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

I hope you all had a great time.