I'm looking forward to Christmas this year. My little Muppet will be with me for five days. We'll have a lot of fun. She's ten years old now so it's time we had a formal dinner on the 25th. Menu's planned. Nothing too fancy. Just a bit fancier than the hamburger and French fries she was hoping for after she's done strewing the living room with discarded wrapping paper.
Unfortunately there's a downside to this year's festivities. Now, while my friends and family know that I had two bad heart attacks in May 2009 (not that anyone cares) that left me with a ticker working (well nearly working) at less than half the rate of a normal healthy one, my sister, Christine, has gone one better.
She's in a hospital in Southern Spain fighting for her life after having her chest opened up so some Spanish surgeon could get her ticker kick started. Being as Spain are European and World football champions I hope the geezer wasn't patriotic enough to try for a penalty shoot out. I was lucky enough to have mine restarted with electricity, though the tubes and things shoved up femoral arteries did piss me off a tad and three and a half weeks of hospital food cost me 11kgs/24lbs in lost weight.
Anyway, apparently the team that have been sorting her out reckon it's up to her now so I hope she makes it. I'd hate to think that 40 years of her insulting me would be wasted. Apart from me, there's a bunch of people she's never heard of here in Zoutleeuw, Belgium rooting for her.
One more thing. I hope she'll realise now, how precious family is, and send me a Christmas card next year. I'd send her one but noone wants to give me her address. Seems I'm not on the need to know list.
Don't you dare friggin' die on me Christine. I love you Sis, and we've got insults we haven't used yet.