Christmas in the UK

What a journey... When Sophia told me I was going to the UK for my first trip abroad I was ecstatic. Perhaps I would get to meet the Queen... at the very least I'd get to try some Yorkshire pudding (does it come with banana custard I wonder?). I packed my little bag and got ready for a luxurious flight across the Atlantic. Some mix up must have occurred at monkey baggage handling at the airport because somehow I ended up freight. No nice cabin crew to tend to my every wish, not even so much as a dried up sandwich for yours truly. No, I was bumped around the cargo bay with parcels of socks and hand knitted Christmas jumpers. And let's not go into how cold it was... my brass monkey cousins know a thing or two, I can tell you.

Anyway, enough of the trip. Let's focus on my happy arrival - on Christmas Eve a cheery postal employee carried me up the path of Lisa's welcoming house. My days of darkness were over as she sliced (carefully) through the cellotape and pulled me out of my cardboard travelling carriage (aka parcel box). Blinking in the shining Christmas lights I found myself looking into two sets of blue eyes. A lovely lady who was unfortunately having a bad hair day and a cute little boy who gave me a warm and welcoming cuddle.

Ah, this was more like it. After a refreshing banana milkshake and a packet of monkey nuts I was ready to start my adventures.