So there I was sitting with Euan on the porch, drinking beer, talking rugby. My princess and Euan's wife were at church, nine lessons and carols, be back in an hour. Euan's two kids and my four were bouncing on the beds, upstairs.
All was at peace in the world.
Until my princess came home and said, "What's that burning smell?"
"Those cheap and nasty Christmas lights I told you not to buy," I said.
"But the house in on fire!" she shouted.
It was then I realised the fuzzy glow of festive feeling and warmth surrounding me was actually a fog of acrid smoke, and it was belching out of the house.
In plunges the princess to rescue the children. Euan's wife drops her hymn book and plunges inside to help her...
So, it turns out one of the bouncing children, I think it might have been Rex, pulled off his t-shirt and threw it with wild abandon over a standard lamp. And the bulb was so hot it ignited the t-shirt...
All I can say is thank God it was only nine lessons and carols. Our house would have been burnt to the ground and the children dead of smoke inhalation had my princess and Euan's wife stayed longer at church for communion and confession.
