The Bear was very good for Christmas. He didn't say much to anyone but, at least, he only got cross once - when the TV wouldn't work because it was unplugged.

He wasn't exactly sociable with our visitors. In fact, after saying 'Bonjour' he settled down behind a book during the aperitif and hardly spoke during the meal either. He went and sat in his armchair while I was making the custard and so when we brought the pudding to the table to set it alight the only people who saw it were our visitors, Jay, CC and me, (as the Whale had gone back to bed to rest his bum!) It was a rather strange end to Christmas dinner but our French friends were intrigued and appeared to enjoy themselves even though they must have thought the English had odd manners.

As soon as they took their leave the TV was switched on and so we were a bit like the Royle family, splayed out in armchairs, over fed and sleepy as we watched Doctor Who etc.

But, it has to be said that this year the Bear bought me a present - a pressure cooker so I was left wondering how he knew. . . .

It was Christmas Eve and the Bear was unusually quiet until I heard a few swearwords coming from the living room. When I went in he looked at me in exasperation and said 'I've lost the English programmes.'

He had pulled out the shelf under the telly and been playing with the digibox connections in an attempt to get the DVD recorder to work. The satellite channels weren't working because the box was switched off but Bear can't tell a red light from a green one. After I had rectified that small point I asked if he had fiddled with the scart leads. He denied it but it was obvious he had since the DVD no longer came through to the television. I chided him for messing around without knowing what he was doing and he retorted that I should have been there to help instead of sitting on my fat arse at the computer!

It didn't take long to rearrange the leads so that we could watch DVDs but recording them remains a mystery.