Mummy said to papa "where the fuck is fake Christmas?" and papa said we had to go find it our own "damn selves" then he said the most important part of fake Christmas is to never have it in your home. He should go have fake Christmas at Duncan's house and we could take photos there and eat of the dumplings and of the bountiful crustless salmon sandwiches.
And we did go and it was good and small ones were there and people made noises at each other that sounded nice like tin cans being pushed by slugs and then we had fake Christmas and mummy did pictures and papa did a funny joke where he pretended he didn't know us. Mummy said it was like hide and seek but for assholes.
Then mummy and I went to Bucky and Caroline's so daddy could write poems about parties that don't have sandwiches at them. They were nice and helped me tell the stories of the Christmas robot and mummy drank the whiskey she stole back from the party.