I am in bed. Mark is in the bathroom right beside me, because we are in a lovely hotel not at home where we have to pop across the landing to clean our teeth.
This is fine when there is nobody else at home but potentially a bit embarrassing if the children are about. My experience of teenagers is that parental wobbly bits are a source of horror worse than anything Bela Lugosi could have dreamed up.
It does not matter here because we have got a lovely bathroom right inside our own lovely bedroom.
It is a very lovely bedroom. It looks out directly over Peter Square and the oversized illuminated Father Christmas. It is definitely one of the nicest bedrooms in the hotel and I am enjoying its loveliness very much.
We have had the most splendid time. We have been to the pantomime.
We could not go to our usual Chinese restaurant because he has closed for Christmas. He was sorry and so were we, but we had a good time anyway, and went to a different buffet where we all ate so much that I was mildly uncomfortable even in my deliberately loose Christmas party frock. It might have been the tights that were the problem. Looking respectable is such a tiresome nuisance.
We ate and drank so much that it was a slow amble across to the theatre, and the pantomime, which was Peter Pan, but which could reasonably have been Snow White or even Cinderella without any major alterations to the plot.
It was brilliant.
I don’t know which bit I liked best, the scenery or the lighting or the special effects or the acting, because they were all magnificent. The Chitty Chitty Bang Bang lift was given an outing, of course it wouldn’t have been a pantomime without it. I would have been disappointed if they hadn’t found some use for it, and it was so marvellous that I cried a bit with the happiness of it.
It was all brilliant. There were acrobats and dancers and no dull love songs between the leading characters. Indeed the leading characters were hardly in it at all. Captain Hook and Smee did most of it, and jolly good they were as well.
Mark has returned and I am going to stop writing and go to sleep, because of breakfast in the morning, but I want you to know that I am in the nicest place in the world, feeling very happy with my life.
I will write properly tomorrow, perhaps.
Life is wonderful.
