I'm still in bed, but according to the list of cooking times I wrote yesterday, the doom starts at 9.30am. Just enough time for breakfast and presents.
09:05 Breakfast is cooking, Meat 1 (Porky) is in his tray, ready to go.
10:10 Ah, we don't have enough chairs. Porky is cooking, time to start on Meat 2 (Lamby).
11:17 Yes I know what cocking gas mark it's on, I put it there. Now fuck off out of my kitchen.
11:23 I've broken all my nails. Can't allow myself to turn to the booze just yet. Coffee and swearing.
11:30 Shopping the Selfridges online sale. Fuck the food.
12:10 There's no room in the oven for Meat 3 (Beefy). Riiiight.
12:48 Mum hasn't cleaned the bathroom. It was her only job. Bitchfit.
13:54 It all just got a bit mental. Lamb out, potatoes in, pork looks wicked. Beef still sitting on the windowsill. Feck.
14:30 ARGH
15:17 They're sitting and eating. No-one's dead yet. Dog has her eyes on everything, she's going to snap any second.
16:04 Everyone's eaten. Was fabulous, but no crackling - I can't seem to get it to do anything but go brown and fatty? Secretly feeding the dog lamb in the kitchen because she's got a fabulous jumper on:
I think 12:48pm was my favourite. Love a bit of parent / child role reversal...
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