The One With the C Word

16/12/2014 06:13 GMT | Updated 14/02/2015 10:59 GMT

No I'm not going to be really rude and use 'that' word.

I'm talking about Christmas.

This is our first Christmas at school and blimey the admin involved is extraordinary. I must have had at least one letter back home in the book bag everyday since the beginning of December.

Firstly there's been the school production where the boy was a snowman. Yes I know I don't remember there being a snowman at the nativity either, but then I also don't remember there being an Elf, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer or Santa there, but apparently they all were. He did really well bless him and hubby and I did the proud, slightly teary, parent thing.

After that there was the Christmas lunch to book in for, then next week it's the school theatre trip to see 'Dogs Don't Do ballet', which luckily is a book he knows so fingers crossed it goes ok. There's a parent 'bake off' too, as well as the class Christmas party, which requires you to provide party food to share, then the 'wear your own clothes and bring a toy into school day' at the end of term. Yes they still do that.

I can't keep up with it all.

Of course it all costs money! There's a £1 for this, a couple of quid for that. It all goes to school funds and I don't begrudge it, but it all takes some remembering.

Today's activity, in a seemingly never ending stream of Christmas fun, was the school fair and Santa was coming. This caused much excitement from the boy, who has been talking about Christmas since May. I'm not entirely sure he's ever really got over Christmas finishing last year to be honest.

Bugger his birthday it's all about the big C for the boy.

You paid £2 and then your child would be accompanied by their teacher during the afternoon to see Santa before the fair began. A kind of first dibs system for reception pupils before siblings all turned up at 3.30.

So all the way to school this morning he was firing Santa related questions at me.

When is he coming? Will he have a present for me? What will it be? What will he say? Where will he be? What does he look like? What time is he coming again?

Oh my god the questions! I answered them all patiently and as best I could, whilst negotiating the school run, the icy rain and the kamikaze lollipop ladies who dive in front of you at any given moment.

Tonight I picked him up as usual and asked if he'd had a good day?

'I saw Father Christmas.' came the excited reply.

'And what did he say darling?' I asked expectantly

'Ho, Ho, Ho of course' said the boy with a 'duh Mum' tone in his voice. 'Everybody knows that!'

And that's all he had to say about that.

This answering questions lark obviously doesn't extend both ways it would seem......