When bears propose…

Okay, so we were all set to mention the Crocs. Not only the Crocs, but the socks deep withinside the Crocs. Then we were going to mention how long it was taking him to open his present. IT’S ONLY FUCKING WRAPPING PAPER! Then we were going to mention the fact that we were a little surprised the ring could fit round his chubby little sausage finger. Then we were going to mention, ‘Who the fuck records themselves opening presents without inciting suspicion? There isn’t even a kitten!’ Then we were going to mention the indoor plant. Then we were going to mention the candy canes hanging from the tree. Some people just don’t do themselves any favours. Then we were going to mention the chair. What colour are we calling this? Quince? Then we were going to mention the blinds. And the carpet. Then we were going to mention the twinkly lights, which are just asking for an epileptic fit. Then we were going to speculate as to who’s top and who’s bottom. There’s even a dog.

Then we got to 1.25min and started sobbing like a Paltrow receiving an Oscar. Someone had to slap us. Thrice times.

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