Santa and my little pony

The children waited patiently, the excitement mounting.

And as Mr Grigg waited in the house in his glad rags, rouge freshly applied to his cheeks by Mrs Champagne-Charlie to add to the effect, a light clip-clop could be heard coming up the road. It was just before two o'clock. His transport to the school Christmas fair had arrived.

While he adjusted the big buckle around his red tunic, the phone rang. It was Bellows, whose voice is so loud that in all honesty, he could just have easily walked outside his front door and shouted down to us.

'UM, ER, IT'S THE HORSE,' said Bellows.'I'M AFRAID YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO LEAD IT TO THE CHRISTMAS FAIR.'

'Skittish, is it?' Mr Grigg said, the phone six inches away from his ear as he marvelled at his profile in the hall mirror and squatted up and down to test the gusset of the Santa trousers. 'You know, I'm very good with high-spirited fillies. Don't forget I married Maddie.'

'UM, NO, IT'S JUST, UM, IT'S JUST PERHAPS IT'S A TAD SMALL TO TAKE A GENTLEMAN OF YOUR GIRTH.'

And then it arrived. Ride your pony, get on your pony and ride.

Well, perhaps not.

That's about it.

Love Maddie x