Christmas Cheer

Friday December 23 2011

Admittedly there are exacerbating factors this Christmas. I have the tail-end of a 2-week old cold – now just an occasional sneeze, sniffle, and hacking cough accompanied by perpetual catarrh, the sort that makes you want to hawk every few minutes just to clear your vocal cords of the thick mucus adhering to them.

C has had a sore throat, nasal congestion, and headache for the past week (same bug, different symptoms?). So the no-kissing rule did not contain the spread of infection. This still seems to be in force - not that either of us feels remotely amorous anyway. We have not had a proper night’s sleep for nearly a week, mostly through C coming down to make a cup of tea and me having to come downstairs an hour later to prise her away from serial Christmas cooking programmes or property porn.

10:05 am. I am standing in the quick baskets-only check-out at the little local M&S. The queue is an unprecedented 17 deep. All I have in my basket is 2 packs of croissants; I prefer cereal for breakfast anyway. At this moment it would be impossible to put into words how much I hate Christmas.

2:30 pm. Doesn't there come a point every year when you just want the whole thing to be over? For me it starts around December 1^st, around the time we start having to use credit cards instead of debit cards, and ends Christmas Day. It has just plateaued. I am sitting on the bed after spending 90 minutes helping to wrap present after present. Any query is met with “That’s not a present, it’s just a stocking filler”.

Let’s be perfectly honest about this. There is no self-righteous rationale here. I have no conscientious objection to the reckless over-spending and profligate consumption that goes with the season. Nor the incongruous celebration of the birth of a religious leader most celebrants don’t actually follow. Nor the inequalities in our society highlighted by this season in particular. (Well maybe a bit.)

But no - my main objections are entirely personal and selfish.

I know it is going to take 5 minutes just to find the spread in the fridge – because every shelf is completely full of utterly alien items.

Dusting most surfaces in the living room and kitchen is hopeless – because they are covered in cards and random yuletide-related knick-knacks.  

The cupboards are currently stuffed with biscuits, chocolates, mince pies, cake, brandy snaps and all manner of snack foods – so normal healthy eating goes completely out of the window for 2 weeks. The only reason these items are not seen in the house any other time of the year is because they will get eaten - which is precisely what is going to happen.

A large and exceptionally ugly poinsettia has appeared in the kitchen. Once queried, it relocated to the living room where is it no less ugly but thankfully less prominent.

I am going to have to single-handedly try to keep a 7-foot felled spruce from turning into a few sticks by daily application of sustenance for up to 3 weeks.

Then there’s the dreaded ‘present opening’ ritual.

And the Christmas dinner! I have no objection to occasional feasting – but is it essential to serve 3 kinds of meat, 3 types of potato, and 16 other vegetables at the same meal?!

9:30 pm.  We are 2 hours into our annual pantomime trip. For some reason in August I agreed that it would be a good idea to have a family trip to the panto again. Just as I have every August for the past 20 years. It’s essentially the same show every year; only the title changes. It’s always a good show, don’t get me wrong, but you have to be in just the right mood (not my current crabby state) especially after building up a tolerance to the experience over many years.

The best moment doesn’t even happen except in my head. It’s when I turn and smash my fist into the face of the geezer who has been whistling a few centimetres from my ear on and off all evening. (Even the rest of the family, who enjoyed the show, said that the people behind us were arseholes!)

10:15 pm. Show over. After an evening of the Village People and soppy songs about being alone or being together, losing someone and finding someone, I have an overwhelming need to attend a Stranglers concert.

11:45 pm. Bedtime. In 24 hours the preparations will all be over and, a bit like the winter solstice, this means things will start to get better. There will be friends and family to share time and a few laughs with, and maybe some new people to get to know. And I’ll have a wonderful time.