the stamp and stuck it the right way up on the envelope – just for fun, just to see if she’d notice. Then he opened the card and began to write.
Dear Penfriend,
I hope you had a good Christmas. I haven’t had any Christmas yet – it’s still Christmas Eve. Today I went shopping and bought presents for all the family. I don’t like shopping too much, so I got them all in about half an hour, but I think they’ll like them.
Do they have the same Christmas dinner in England as we have here? We always have a turkey and two kinds of potatoes, mashed and roast, and Brussels sprouts, which I’m not mad about, and my granny makes mince pies for dessert, and we put custard on them. Most people have plum pudding for dessert on Christmas Day, but nobody in the family likes that.
Oh, and we just make gravy out of stuff in a big tub that you mix with boiling water.
Well, I better go to sleep – I’m wrecked.
Luke
PS Thanks for your card. Hope you like this one – all my own work, ha ha.
ELMA
On Christmas Day Elma woke early, and called Zac and Dylan, and they all ran downstairs together to open their presents. It didn’t take long. She got a book and a crinkly red top. She’d already read the book about two years earlier, and when she tried on the top, it was so small that one of the seams ripped. Their mother came in as Zac and Dylan opened a big pile of packages that turned out to contain Pokemon figures. Dylan looked kind of sulky, and Zac started to cry. He looked at his mother. ‘Why didn’t Santa know that Dylan and me don’t play with Pokemon any more?’ he wailed.
Elma thought her mum was going to cry, too, but she turned away quickly, and went into the kitchen.
Elma hugged her brothers and gave them each a small chocolate reindeer she’d bought for them the day before. ‘Happy Christmas, guys,’ she said, as she wondered if there was any hope of Christmas actually turning out to be anything other than totally horrible.
After breakfast their dad came down. He’d made a kind of an effort, and had actually got dressed, but his trousers were all creased, and his jumper looked like someone had slept in it.
‘What did Santa bring you boys?’ he asked.
Dylan turned away, almost as if he hadn’t heard the question. Zac went to find the biggest of his new Pokemon. By then, though, their dad had walked into the TV room, and was already engrossed in a programme about baby turtles.
Elma helped her mum to tidy up the kitchen, and then everyone went to sit in the TV room. The first row was because Dad refused to allow the TV to be switched to anything besides the National Geographic Channel.
The second row was because Zac, who didn’t really understand what was wrong, was trying to make things better by loudly and enthusiastically playing with his unwanted toys. This was fine for about a minute and a half, until Dad started shouting at Zacfor being so noisy, and Mum started shouting at Dad for being so mean, and Zac cried softly, and Dylan sat in a corner with a white face and said nothing at all.
The third row was over a box of chocolates, and after that, Elma stopped counting. The day dragged slowly on, with short periods of calm divided up by bouts of loud shouting.
Dinner was OK – if you just ate the slices of turkey that didn’t have any of Mum’s lumpy gravy on them. While the rest of the family was fighting over the last soggy potato, Elma sneaked her plate into the back yard and fed the brown-covered bits to Snowball. Snowball didn’t seem to mind and even wagged his tail a bit. Elma was glad that at least someone was happy. She patted him and was rewarded with a big puff of gravy-breath.
Even though she was allowed to stay up as late as she liked, Elma went to bed at ten. Bed was less scary than listening to all those fights. As she lay there with her eyes closed, she realised why the day had been so bad – it was the first day in a very long time that her mum had spent at home. For
Dear Penfriend,
I hope you had a good Christmas. I haven’t had any Christmas yet – it’s still Christmas Eve. Today I went shopping and bought presents for all the family. I don’t like shopping too much, so I got them all in about half an hour, but I think they’ll like them.
Do they have the same Christmas dinner in England as we have here? We always have a turkey and two kinds of potatoes, mashed and roast, and Brussels sprouts, which I’m not mad about, and my granny makes mince pies for dessert, and we put custard on them. Most people have plum pudding for dessert on Christmas Day, but nobody in the family likes that.
Oh, and we just make gravy out of stuff in a big tub that you mix with boiling water.
Well, I better go to sleep – I’m wrecked.
Luke
PS Thanks for your card. Hope you like this one – all my own work, ha ha.
ELMA
On Christmas Day Elma woke early, and called Zac and Dylan, and they all ran downstairs together to open their presents. It didn’t take long. She got a book and a crinkly red top. She’d already read the book about two years earlier, and when she tried on the top, it was so small that one of the seams ripped. Their mother came in as Zac and Dylan opened a big pile of packages that turned out to contain Pokemon figures. Dylan looked kind of sulky, and Zac started to cry. He looked at his mother. ‘Why didn’t Santa know that Dylan and me don’t play with Pokemon any more?’ he wailed.
Elma thought her mum was going to cry, too, but she turned away quickly, and went into the kitchen.
Elma hugged her brothers and gave them each a small chocolate reindeer she’d bought for them the day before. ‘Happy Christmas, guys,’ she said, as she wondered if there was any hope of Christmas actually turning out to be anything other than totally horrible.
After breakfast their dad came down. He’d made a kind of an effort, and had actually got dressed, but his trousers were all creased, and his jumper looked like someone had slept in it.
‘What did Santa bring you boys?’ he asked.
Dylan turned away, almost as if he hadn’t heard the question. Zac went to find the biggest of his new Pokemon. By then, though, their dad had walked into the TV room, and was already engrossed in a programme about baby turtles.
Elma helped her mum to tidy up the kitchen, and then everyone went to sit in the TV room. The first row was because Dad refused to allow the TV to be switched to anything besides the National Geographic Channel.
The second row was because Zac, who didn’t really understand what was wrong, was trying to make things better by loudly and enthusiastically playing with his unwanted toys. This was fine for about a minute and a half, until Dad started shouting at Zacfor being so noisy, and Mum started shouting at Dad for being so mean, and Zac cried softly, and Dylan sat in a corner with a white face and said nothing at all.
The third row was over a box of chocolates, and after that, Elma stopped counting. The day dragged slowly on, with short periods of calm divided up by bouts of loud shouting.
Dinner was OK – if you just ate the slices of turkey that didn’t have any of Mum’s lumpy gravy on them. While the rest of the family was fighting over the last soggy potato, Elma sneaked her plate into the back yard and fed the brown-covered bits to Snowball. Snowball didn’t seem to mind and even wagged his tail a bit. Elma was glad that at least someone was happy. She patted him and was rewarded with a big puff of gravy-breath.
Even though she was allowed to stay up as late as she liked, Elma went to bed at ten. Bed was less scary than listening to all those fights. As she lay there with her eyes closed, she realised why the day had been so bad – it was the first day in a very long time that her mum had spent at home. For
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