Yes, it's come round again. I can't believe it, Mr Fink is bullying me into getting Christmas cards and wrapping paper (not to mention sending me emails which helpfully point out which gadgets he has found that interest him!). I'm still waiting for that Indian Summer we were promised.
Anyway, the Fink family are not very good at proper shopping - where you sharpen up your elbows and take your chances in the crowds. I end up with shopper-rage in the first 10 minutes and just want to lie down in the shop and have a screaming ab-dab like a 3 year old! Fink shopping involves, the computer, the card and the postman! I love it.
The shopping is nearly done and the packages are arriving, we were starting to run out of places to put them, so Mr Fink says. "I know, I'll put them in a washing basket under our bed".
This in itself seems, to the untrained eye, like a good idea. However the fatal flaw of the plan was when he said to Little Fink, "What ever you do, don't look under our bed."
Even Little Fink, as young as she is said, "Fancy telling a kid not to look under the bed at this time of year". She's a canny one!
