Had a week away in Dorset last week - much better than all that Christmas shopping malarkey.
As well as eating a lot and walking along cold, but sunny beachfronts, we also ticked off a couple of major milestones in Littl'un's early years - getting her first pair of shoes and meeting Father Christmas.
The first went practically without a hitch.
We waltzed into Clarks and about 40 minutes later we came back out again with 2 pairs of size 4 and half F shoes - one pink with sequins and the other black patent - just like I had when I was a baby.
We also had a really funny picture of her wearing one of the pairs - taken by the young sales assistant.
Himself and I came out all beamy, thinking what an important day this was.
Littl'un just wanted to rip up all that tissue paper inside the shoeboxes.
- And she did, when I wasn't looking the next day.
Second milestone of the week didn't go quite so smoothly.
Santa was in Debenham's, just past the kid's section, sitting on a throne.
As soon as she saw him I felt her stiffen in my arms.
And there was no way in Lapland she was sitting on his knee.
I apologised ten or 12 times as she screamed blue murder at him.
She even started another little one off who was waiting behind us.
After a lot of cajoling, we managed to persuade her to pose for a picture sitting a safe distance away from the big red, bearded guy.
And for her bravery and our three quid, she got a nice pop-up story book from his sack.
There's a story to embarrass her with when she's older.