Countdown to Christmas: Christmas evening

Usually Christmas evening is a bit of an anti-climax. After the big lunch, and all the present opening, and chocolate eating, all that ever happens in the Howe household is that someone puts on a film, and we all lie about like beached whales, gradually drifting off.


But this year, I went over to the boyfriend's, and their Christmas evening has a very different feel.


I arrived at about half past 5 and everything was in full swing. There was not an empty glass in the house, and everyone was full of cheer and merriment (probably heightened by the obligatory shot of firewater given on arrival - they are a family of Poles afterall). The Wii was out, and despite my usual disdain for the contraption (if you want to go bowling, why not actually go bowling?) I thoroughly enjoyed playing on it, as did everyone else, and I now will not hear a bad word against this wonderful console.


We started with bowling (in my excitement at getting a strike I jumped up and hit a light fitting) and then we moved onto a variety of balance games (I was surprisingly good, as was Grandma Doreen, despite her dodgy hip). Uncle Richard was hopeless (at one point the only action his Mii would do was jump up and down on the spot. Richard, needless to say was stood completely still. Everytime he tried this particular game, exactly the same would happen - we never got to the bottom of why).


Aunt Judy loved the Wii. Although on many of the balance games she was frequently heard to shout "Oh it knows I've had my bunions done! It knows! It knows!". Whether it did know, I can't be sure, but it is an ingenious machine, and so I wouldn't be surprised. She convinced Uncle Richard that they were buying one in the Boxing Day sales. Richard was less keen.


Aunt Visia managed some enviable poses during the balance games, and the Boyfriend's dad was disqualified for getting so carried away that he actually jumped on the board (big no no).


Uncle Keith kept up some very amusing commentary (you're walking a tightrope, not dancing in a disco, you're supposed to be on a ski-jump, not on the toilet, and so on) and Tasha's boyfriend decided that real skiing is easier than the Ski Slalom.


Predictably the Boyfriend came out top for everything (3 strikes in a row, top of the leader board, first to cross the tightrope, etc). But it kept the rest of us amused for the best part of 3 hours, removed any awkardness or shyness that comes from spending Christmas with family that isn't yours, and made you feel much better about the grotesque amount of turkey, chocolate, cake, mince pies and wine consumed throughout the day.