Christmas Day didn’t quite go the way I hoped, unfortunately.

The children woke and opened their presents while Tom sat with a face like thunder, watching them.

He spent the rest of the day complaining about what I’d bought for the children, saying they should have only had one small present each, and that the only reason I got them more than that is because of my guilt. He wouldn’t tell me what it was I had to feel guilty over, though.

When that rant abated, he started on the next one about how his Christmas was ruined because he had to spend it in this country with us instead of being back home with his family.

He said he had to get out of the house because if he stayed in with us, he’d go insane, but rather than go out, he stayed home and complained until the evening, when he put the TV on and got drunk.

Luckily for the older children, they went to their Dads’ house in the evening – hopefully they had a better time there than they did here.