Tired of dramas and with no kids or man, I’m planning the big day with just me and the dogs. Don’t pity me, I can’t wait..
. Aaaah, Christmas . That magical time of joy, wonder and goodwill to all mankind.
But is it, really? Surely I can’t be the only person to find being rammed into confined places with extended family , lame decorations and all the enforced cheerfulness, rather tense? Less “peace on earth”, more “silent relative rage,” perhaps? Throw in copious amounts of booze which (let’s be honest) is necked more to “take the edge off” than in celebration. And it’s no surprise everyone ends up ruddy-cheeked in wonky paper hats, hissing at each other over burnt parsnips while perched on the wobbly table extender dragged out for special occasions. I realise I sound like the Grinch, but come on, can’t Christmas be hell? All the festivities are so geared around couples and families.
It’s the season of love – of little blue Tiffany boxes, kisses under the mistletoe, families decorating trees together, dads dressed as Santa , mums stuffing stockings and sugar-hyped children in awe of it all..
