Same again

Every year I do this - every dratted Christmas, without fail, without pause and without really getting to grips with the whole Christmas business.

First of all there is the food.  Every single dratted year I say that we are not going to get a lot of stuff, the shops are only closed for one day, we do not live in a desert, and it won't hurt us not to be overwhelmed by goodies, including fruit and veg which will be wasted.  Then every year, every single dratted year, I buy enough groceries to wait out a month long blizzard.  The delivery which is due today is over twice what I would normally consider an expensive shop and four times my target for deliveries.  And that is without all the stocking up from Morrisons, Makro and the farm shop. 

I am also considering getting a tape recording made of me saying, 'we shouldn't get too much for little bear'.  And, 'Little bear has so much stuff, he doesn't really need that much.'  Then there is the old favourite, 'I know lots of people are buying for little bear.'  Little bear has his birthday party on 29th December.  I have invited over forty children.  Many will come, and I am relatively confident that on 1 January, after we have had Christmas, birthday and party, there will be a drift of wrapping paper higher than our car.  There are nearly eighty books just from us stashed in various places, not to mention bits here, gizmos there, a HUGE sack from little bear's godfather, and unknown quantities from little bear's lovely auntie.  Little bear even has a Ben10 lampshade due to be hung on Christmas Eve in the hope he will not notice and think Father Christmas put it up when he visited.  What little bear has from us has escaped me - I have lost track.  It does include things like a hole punch and stapler, because I think those are the sort of things little boys enjoy fiddling with.  It also includes dinosaur eggs that grow in water, a kaleidoscope, and lots of Dr Who stuff.  Yesterday I bought a magic trick in a tin. 

Every year I grumble, lose things, forget things and do not get into the spirit.  Every year I moan about the cost of stuff and the trouble and what a nuisance the shopping is.  Every year some time around 10pm on Christmas Eve I fall in love with Christmas again.

 Actually, 9am on a very stormy 23 December, I think the Christmas spirit is hitting me a little bit early. I think it is wonderful!