The best Christmas ever

Yesterday was Christmas day, though I didn’t know it was when I woke up. I think I want to be Christian if all their holidays are as good as yesterday was.

     What’s going on I thought as mum dressed me in my orange sparkly party dress. Everyone was busy, blowing up balloons, sticking tinselly stuff on the pictures and hanging it from the ceiling. Lots of pots were bubbling and the kitchen was full of people getting in each others’ way, talking loud, chopping and stirring, hacking and mixing. Cun was there, I think he was drunk, so too was bloody Gary (well, that’s what everyone calls him) and his horrible Manchester. You can always tell where Manchester has been; there’s snot on it.

     Kop and Pang had new shoes, and their old ones aren’t even old yet. They were drinking Coca Cola. They tried to get me to drink some, but, I don’t know, it didn’t seem right, drinking that early in the morning. Dad would have a fit, I thought, so I had milk instead.

     Mum was in the bathroom an awfully long time. When she came out, I thought it was a movie star. She had been painting a princess on her face, her mouth was bright red, and she had a white face and green with blue colours on her eyes. She was wearing new sexy-pants as well. She looked beautiful.

     She took me out into the garden and I had to shut my eyes. I peeped, so she put her hands over my eyes to make it dark. When she took her hands away, and I stopped blinking, I had the fright of my life. A giant man stood there. He had long white hair and a big white beard. His shirt and trousers were red, so was his hat, and he was wearing my dad’s black wellies.

     He said; “Ho, ho, ho.” I thought he wanted to eat me. Dad always said that I looked good enough to eat when I was dressed in my party dress. He said; “Come here little India. I have a special surprise for you.” Well, that did it, I burst out crying and hid my face in mum’s legs so he wouldn’t be able to see me, and went off to eat Manchester, or one of my brothers, who aren’t my real brothers, preferable all three of them, instead.

     But he didn’t, he took hold of me, I was screaming, he was going to eat me for breakfast for sure. Why didn't mum stop him I thought. 

     He then pulled at his big white beard. It fell off. “Don’t be scared darling, it’s only me having a joke,” he said.

     I didn't know what he meant. Who was it having a joke? Why was he having a joke? Didn’t he want me for his breakfast really? I peeped round from mum’s legs, and realised who it was; Dad.

     It was my dad, back from his ‘ventures at last. Come back to take care of me as he should have been all along. He must have heard the promise I made to Mae Khong Kha not to get on his nerves if he would only come back to me. He must have heard my promise and my wish too because, guess what he brought with him?

     The pink Barbie Bike that I really, really wanted, with a bell and everything. 

I love Christmas. I love my dad.

       

       

A letter from Australia

I’ve had a letter from my granddad in Australia. It was a bit of a puzzle because I can’t read and nor can my mum. We asked Gary to read it for us but he made an excuse of not having his glasses. Mum gave him my dad’s glasses but he said they were the wrong type. He then remembered a pot. He said he’d left something cooking and then went without winking at mum.

Mum said it was probably because he can’t read either.

     We took it school with Kop (the big one who thinks he’s my brother, but isn’t really). His teacher, who’s American but said he can read English, read it for us.

     It wasn’t worth the effort really, all it said was “Have a Merry Christmas”. Well, were Buddhist and don’t have Christmas. It also said “I hope you’re being a good girl”. I’m too little enough not to be.

     He also said that he thinks he’s getting a little forgetful in old age. I should say so. He forgot to put the twenty dollars in the envelope.

     I think I should like to go to Australia. They have kangaroos with didgeridoos there. And bananas in pyjamas. In fact, lots of things rhyme in Australia. The only problem with being in Australia that I can think of is all their seasons are back to front. It’s summer in the winter and autumn in the spring. It must be terribly difficult knowing what to wear.

     Dad said there are only two seasons in Thailand; wet and not wet. He’s such a liar. There are four that I can think of; wet with sunshine, wet without sunshine, not wet with sunshine and not wet without sunshine. We’re in the not wet without sunshine at the moment.

     I don’t feel the cold like Thais do. I have to wear my furry coat anyway and get too hot when I run around chasing the chickens. They have a lovely house and a big fence but they are always excaping. It’s a stupid thing to do as Leo, Tiger and Jenny would bite them to bits if they were quick enough. So I have to do lots of running to catch the chickens and chase the dogs away. It’s such a headache.

     If you are in Lilo in India and see my dad, tell him to come home quick before all the chickens are gone. I know uncle Diamond is there. And so too is uncle and aunt Eminem. If you love me like you say you do then speak to him about his besronsibilities will you.

       

What's your favourite colour?

I just have back from a holiday. We went to Bangkok. Bangkok is the capital of Thailand in case you didn’t know. It’s where the King lives, but we didn’t see him. He’s very old now and quite sick, so I don’t expect mum wanted to disturb him.

     It was his birthday and I didn’t have a present for him so it was probably just as well that we didn’t see him. Not that he would have minded us not having a present. He’s really rich and I don’t think anything made of purple colour plastic would have impressed him much.

     Everything mum buys seems to be made of purple colour plastic. Dad used to hate it when she came back from market and said, “Look what I’ve bought.” He used to wait until she wasn’t looking and give it to me saying, “Get your teeth into that.” That was even before I had teeth. I got loads now but am grown out of putting things in my mouth.

     Funny, now that dad isn’t here anymore, she’s stopped buying purple plastic stuff. She bought loads of things when we were in Bangkok but nothing made of plastic, and nothing purple colour. I wonder if...no, that’s a silly thought.

     I think she misses him too. I sometimes hear her crying when she thinks I’m asleep. I roll over, pretending to be still asleep, and cuddle her. She cuddles me back and sings a song. Not she santies like dad used to sing, but soft love songs that I don’t understand.

     It doesn’t matter that I don’t understand the words, it is the sound of her voice, all soft and sweet without being sticky, that makes me happy. We’re like two abandoned sister princesses finding comfort in each other’s arms, waiting together on our mattress of dry leaves in the woods for the day our prince returns. He will find us, barely alive, and take us home to make our house a castle again, and us all to be a family.