There was a lot of the first, a few of the second, and really none of the last.
My few fears about Christmas just being a bit...overwhelming... were completely unfounded. There was lots to do, lots of help, and so many of us that it didn't matter if anyone needed to get away and have a bit of a break.
I called my mum, after about ten minutes of just sitting on the stairs wondering if I should or not. I've no idea if she was trying to be polite, and not mentioning what happened before, or if she genuinely didn't remember, or if she just wanted to pretend. Anyway, it wasn't mentioned. We wished each other a happy Christmas. I'm glad I called, although I don't know if I want to confront her about it some other time. Anyway, for now, doesn't matter.
All the food came out great - there was too much, but there always is, and it meant anyone who got hungry later (Sherlock) could graze on the leftovers.
Sherlock's favourite thing, without a doubt, was this:
It was a really fun day (And who knew that Mrs Hudson could wolf whistle that loudly?) and I really wish I could be with them today, instead of being at work - still, only today and tomorrow, then another two days off to spend with Nicky and her crew, who are coming to stay (and hit the sales - rather them than me!)