Me and the Proles just watched the Titfield Thunderbolt on telly.

I remember it as a child, watching it now is odd, it’s not the best paced Ealing Comedy but I still really like it.

Prole2 danced through most of it and wrapped himself up in a cat. The cat was non too pleased but this being the season of goodwill things seemed to turn out all right. This is the same cat that forced him out of bed last week, he turned up in mine at 4.30am complaining that he was being bullied.

Prole1 ate cheese and watched the film with all the intensity he might give a deep documentary into the privatisation of important bastions of National identity.
He may have strange dreams due to all the cheese as he was packing it away tonight.

We had a long discussion about where to hang stockings which ended in a vote.
Prole1 is big on votes.
I felt I had to bring a little power to bear as some of the locations for stocking placement were at best impractical, at worst impossible for any Christmas magic at all.
It was not exactly rigged but Father christmas pretty much gets his way on this one.

The 9 carrots left out for the reindeer have been reduced to 3, on the grounds that the reindeer have to keep moving and don’t want to get too full, and Prole2 has been to the toilet twice in the last half hour.

Proles now in bed, lights out and silent.

Happy Christmas you lot.

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