Yuletide kicked off good and proper in our house this morning, when Jamie and I followed a visit to see Arthur Christmas on the big screen with a brief hook-up with the main man himself.
And, despite living in the North Pole, it appears Father Christmas grew up in West Yorkshire.
I also got the impression he was looking forward to Christmas Day much more than anyone else, but perhaps for different reasons.
"Ey up, little boy," he growled to White Junior.
"This time next week I'll be back in t'Lapland and Christmas will all be over for another year. Eeeee!!!"
Methinks he'll have had at least a crate of Christmas spirit by this time next week too.
