The Night the Reindeer Died*

IMG_1307Such was the title of the mock TV movie that opened Richard Donner’s brash and brilliant Scrooged. And that is exactly what happened on Christmas Eve.

When I say that I don’t mean that we were saved from an attack on Santa’s Grotto by Lee Majors – insert your own Six Million Dollar Newman joke here – but that, generally speaking, Isabelle killed her Rudolph.

As mentioned in my last post this is the first year that Isabelle has really grasped Christmas with both hands and shook it like a giant snowglobe. Each moment has been a real joy and been so full of innocence and smile inducing moments that have been utterly priceless. I’m sure everyone has such moments with their children but at the moment it is as if she is a comedy genius as she begins to find her way around her character and find her own unique voice. It’s captivating and if one existed it would surely be the must have boxset of the season, which I guess this acts as the commentary of sorts.

As ever it’s those smaller moments that stick in the heart and the head, leaving water for Rudolph and a stiff drink and mince pie for Father Christmas was certainly one of those.

Iz was excited to see the offerings on the top of the fire. She was seeing them just before she went to bed on Christmas Eve, she might not have understood it all but some of it certainly must have made sense as Iz grabbed her mini Rudolph, the one she had been given the week before by jolly old St Nick himself. Iz knew exactly who the water was for and marched over to the water with her Rudolph to give him a drink, which she promptly did, sitting his nose and half his face in it, essentially drowning him.

He of course was rescued once Isabelle retired and soon dried out ready for the following morning’s activities…

*Metaphorically speaking, naturally.

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