So we were at Mum and Dad's in St Ives for Christmas.
Which meant getting kitted out for winter beach fun. That's Will's 'hurry up and take the damned picture Dad' smile.
He cheered up when he got to the beach though.
So did Evie, although she was mostly inerested in eating sand.
After rough and ready beach fun on Christmas morning she scrubbed up pretty well.
She may well look beautiful in her dress and cardy but not as cool as Will and I in our matching Christmas socks.
I've always loved Christmas, but it's the kids that make it magic.
It's brought me closer to my parents too, because the thing about being someone's child is that you don't really understand them until you go through what they did.
The way having kids is both awesome responsibility and pure joy.
The way I only now get the pressure my Dad felt in his job, when my own is about the kids' shoes. not just being able to afford a few trainers.
Mostly though, you don't get how much, how helplessly and unquestionably your parents love you, until you love your own children in the same way. Christmas somehow brings this home even more.
Anyway, to counteract the sentimental seriousness, here's the offspring doing their best to break Grandma's bed-springs.
By the way, I do love my Mother very much, but not enough to neglect pointing the horrendousness of her choice of duvet cover. Monstrous.