How Father Christmas made me lose my shit and giggle like a schoolgirl

So you may remember the Pancakes and Pageant tradition that signals the start of all Christmas traditions (of which I have many).

Last year, someone booked a romantic weekend away on Pageant weekend, so we couldn't go, but this year, the tradition returned!

There was pancake eating, chalk drawing, and window-sill sitting, and much waving. I looooove waving at the Pageanters and watch them go from automatic wave to enthusiastic wave. And of course, I love being waved to by Father Christmas himself.

Now last time, he went all the way past before turning and waving directly at me. It was one of the greatest moments of my childhood life. I told this story this year to the amusement and befuddlement of those around me (except for the boyfriend of course - he knows what's up), but I was very concerned that I would feel a bit sad if I didn't get a wave this year.

 

So all the other floats have gone, and Father Christmas is coming! I am managing my expectations, like so: he can't wave at everyone every year, you are very lucky that he waved to you last time, etc. And Father Christmas is waving all around, he's blowing some kisses but mostly waving. AND THEN. YOU GUYS.

FATHER CHRISTMAS POINTS. DIRECTLY AT ME. And waves. And blows kisses.

And I completely lost it, it was so exciting and unexpected, and I GOT A POINT. No-one else got a point, it was so crazy!

I think he must have remembered me, after all. Happy Christmas indeed.