Have yourself a merry little Dorkus

Okay, so for some reason Mum's old flatmate called me Dorkus, which is okay. I can live with it. But does she have to dress me up so that I look like a dork too?

See what I have to endure? Hopefully she'll forget about this outfit and won't dig it up again for Christmas Day. I mean, seriously, I am not Santa Claus, folks, I don't have the white beard or the fat belly (um, well not the white beard anyway, and don't count my whiskers.)

I tell you what! After this humiliation, I expect there to be some pretty good presents under the tree for me. Must go and investigate.....

Well, now I'm feeling really catty. Saw my name on a few presents, but that was in the 'from' section, 'To Mum' or 'To Dad.' Hang on, I don't remember going out and buying any presents for the oldies, let alone wrapping them up. There's something fishy going on here, and I'll need to investigate a bit further.

So where are the presents for me? Dorkus? It's not looking good. But I suppose it's still a couple of weeks away. I'll let you know what happens.

Oh no, I just had a horrible thought. Maybe that Santa hat and scarf WAS my present. Please don't tell me it's true!