Looks like I'm all Christmassed out already! And I have no one to blame but myself
Published 24/12/2013 | 05:38
Once again I've peaked too soon! It's the same thing every year - I start getting festive around about the same time everyone else is just getting back into their winter woolies. I've always liked a head start, must be something to do with being a slow runner!
I kick off the beginning of November by doing my present shopping. Then I buy all the goodies and have the tree up by the end of the month. When Xmas Fm gets switched on on December 1, I completely lose the run of myself. I'm to be found dancing around the house with Slade and Shakin' Stevens whilst writing Christmas cards and necking Baileys. I continue in this mode until about the middle of December when I finally decide I've had enough. By Chrismas week I'm all Christmassed out and have no one to blame but myself.
I try to pace myself, I really do but it's no use. By the time everybody else is getting into the festive spirit, mine has disappeared not to be seen again until the beginning of November next year.
No amount of tinsel or selection boxes can win me round. I don't want to know about the 12 Pubs of Christmas and if I hear 'Grandma got run over by a Reindeer' one more time, I'll scream.
The family aren't much help either. All the tins of sweets and biscuits I purchased back in October have long since been scoffed.
The booze is well gone, having been replaced and drank again at least twice. 'I'm not buying another bloody thing until Christmas eve. You're savages!' I tell them all as they polish off the last of the Celebrations.
I think maybe what might be the answer to my dilemma is for me to celebrate Christmas from mid November to mid December and then go away to the Sun!
I tentatively suggest it to Himself but he's having none of it....unless we can bring his mother and her feckin' turkey!
'But would you not like to be lying on a beach on Christmas day?' I implore.
'No, I bloody wouldn't. Christmas is supposed to be cold. You're supposed to stay indoors, eat loads of food, drink loads of booze and fall asleep in front of the telly,' he replies.
'Well we could do that maybe in early December and then fly off somewhere hot for Christmas itself,' I urge.
'No. Did that once and never again,' he says emphatically as he launches into his famous story of a Christmas spent in Oz where they barbequed the turkey and served it with salad. He still hasn't recovered from the trauma.
So it looks like I'm stuck here for the forseeable future, with empty sweet tins, the mother in law's turkey and a wilting Christmas tree. I may just have to learn to pace myself better next year so that I still have a bit of festive cheer left inside me on December 25.
Just as long as no one sings 'Grandma got run over by a reindeer' I think I'll survive!
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