*takes a bite out of one of the gingerbread cookies that Ava and Deacon left for Santa, along with a sip of the milk*
*goes back to frowning at the lights*
So it's Christmas and it's kind of hard to believe that me and Ryan have been together and living here with the kids for six whole months. I love it and I love him and sometimes I think it's all a dream and I'm going to wake up from it, except that the only thing I wake up to now is Ryan's kisses. And sometimes Ava and Deacon crawling in bed with us when we forget to lock the door. Sounds like a fairy tale, doesn't it?
Even fairy tales have evil stepmothers and witches, though. Because there's still Tove, and yeah, he broke up with Jonny after exactly one week in Morocco, and he came back here and moved in with some guy named Peter that he swears he's not fucking, except that he's not going home for Christmas either because he and Peter went skiing in Vale, and it does not get any gayer than that.
Jude and Michael were over here earlier, speaking of more people that I don't like. I still think Jude wants to fuck Ryan, so one of these days I'm going to drug his stupid prancey British ass and drown him in the bathtub, only I have to wait until Ryan's not looking and he sort of knows what I'm going to do before I do it and just when I think it's safe to kill teeny stupid little British guys, it isn't. His kids and Ava and Deacon love each other, though, so I guess it would be sad if they didn't get to play together any more.
Other than that, life's perfect.
*gets up off the couch and goes over to Ryan, sitting in the floor beside him and leaning all over his arm and being generally annoying while Ryan tries to wrap presents* Baaaaaaaby. Make the lights work?