I hate Christmas. And I would go so far as to call myself a Scrooge apart from the fact that I do love giving and receiving presents. But that’s about it. Mr P and I have never had a Christmas tree and I actively encourage people not to send me Christmas cards; I prefer to take the smug, moral high ground and adopt an endangered animal instead of sending my own.
Christmas Day itself sucks for a number of reasons:
- all the shops are shut so if you run out of fags, you’re screwed;
- all the pubs close at 3pm so if you run out of booze, you’re screwed;
- Christmas TV is legendarily appalling year after year;
- Christmas dinner is just an overblown Sunday dinner;
- Mince pies and Christmas pudding are beyond vile.
Christmas Eve and Boxing Day, I like. Christmas Eve has the anticipatory excitement you felt as a little kid, with the added bonus of being allowed to neck copious amounts of Bucks Fizz.
Boxing Day is the release from Christmas, when the kids are happy playing with their toys and adults can be adults again, escape the ties of the family home and bound enthusiastically to the pub to engage with normal people.
I was chatting with my friend, the Little Chef, about this. He is a Christmas lover but said that he hates New Year’s Eve: the expense, the forced jollity etc.
I get where he’s coming from and it made me realise another reason I hate Christmas: it’s the forced slobbery. People, my friend Katie Cat is the worst, adore Christmas for the fact that they can lounge about in their PJs all day, watching telly and stuffing their faces with chocolate.
That very image puts the fear of God into me. I hate slobbing, have a fear of putting on any weight and, because of this, tend to eat less bad-for-you things during the yuletide season than I would at any other time of the year.
This year though, I’m making a pact not to be a mardy bum in the run up to Christmas:
- I will let Mr P buy and decorate a tree if he wants;
- I will merrily accept Christmas cards (although I still intend to adopt an animal rather than buying my own);
- I will play with the kids’ noisy toys on Christmas Day and smile through my hangover;
- I will accept a few chocolates;
- I will wear a paper crown;
- I will watch The Wizard of Oz.
All of which will inevitably lead to…
7. I will be in need of some heavy-duty adult time by Boxing Day.