Feeling Christmassy yet punk?

The Bee family had a delightful Christmas trip to London on Wednesday.

We mainly went to see the Wildlife photographer of the year exhibition at the Natural History Museum. A trip we went on last year and LOVED so we went again for this year's. Super good.

We then headed on over to Harrods where me and sister Bee went to pretend like we could afford anything in there and try on Louboutins like we're Tamara and Petra Ecclestone. And try and find some sexy rich Sheik to marry of course. Although not convinced any sexy single Sheiks exist. Bummer.

I had wanted to see someone famous during the day too, my wish was soon about to come true . . . . . at an embarrassing price.

So we leave Harrods and head off to Winter Wonderland. A land of Winter wonder in Hyde Park.
Firstly we bump into some Sky sports football presenter who father Bee laps right up. Opening line 'Ahhhh, so how's Sky sports these days'. Original. Have a little chat, football blah, football blah blah blah.
Off we go. Approximately 30 seconds later father Bee spies another. Oh no.

Harry sagging grump face Redknap. On the phone. Walking briskly so as to avoid irritating jokers loitering on the street.
So what happens? The irritating joker that is father Bee, high on his last celeb interaction tries his hand again. And what does he say to the manager or Spurs and father of Jamie Hotness Redknap?
'Ahhhh SPURS!'
Possibly the most obvious thing you could possibly say? . . . . .as he jabs his finger towards the sad sagging mess of face.
''thbjsdbfpsibnfvpicnbdpivnavi'', my embarrassment hits levels unknown! It brings tears to my eyes.
Harry wasn't too impressed either. He dished out a bit of the side eye.

(Somewhat accurate depiction of what happened)

Right. let us leave the vicinity and not harass the Z listers anymore please. Just as professional joker (that's what they're called these days) Jack Whitehall makes a 'head down, eyes to the ground, no one will see me' hasty escape.

Winter wonderland was super magical though. Funfair, beer, food, crappy gift stalls. Festive greatness.

Now home to eat our world's most expensive cupcakes from Harrods. High rollers.

Now let's all scamper off and wait for some fat old man to break into our house at the dead of night. Prepare yourself for his arrival here Tracking Santa