Festive Cheer!

Christmas comes but once a year. It’s the time when your great Aunt Maud kisses you on the lips and Uncle Bernie pinches your derriere. You know it’s arrived because, instead of bleaching out your mouth and vowing never to wear that skirt again, you offer them another mince pie and brandy. Christmas, it seems, is the time of festive cheer. At this time of year you cheer all sorts of bad things. When really appalling weather hits the tram route to the station, you think only of snowball fights in Wollaton Park. When Royal Mail announcing last post, it doesn’t bother you as you’ve already written your Christmas cards! It’s only the next day you remember you never sent them. And who cares if there’s a rush at Sainsbury’s, as you’ve been stocking up on Christmas goodies all year! Trouble is you’ve already eaten them at the impromptu Halloween party and those countless Saturday nights in.

Great things happen at Christmas … and it’s not just the presents. You get a whole chocolate calendar to eat and you spend ridiculous amounts of money at the brand spanking new TopShop, because you can get gifts for your mum, sister and Grandma with the reward points. You can even drink mulled wine and dance to ‘Step into Christmas’ at your work do in Oceana without feeling ashamed.

For boys, the girl you’ve been dribbling over all year is more likely to say yes! Red roses and a large box of Thornton’s wrapped in holly paper always go down well. If that fails, you can always try grabbing her at the office do and snogging her under the mistletoe. Did you know that men are 75%(ish) more likely to propose at Christmas? Although in my case I’ll be full of botox, collagen and cryogenically frozen before this happens. But still, don’t give up hope. That little box wrapped in fat Santa’s may not have a key ring in it again. I can see you now, sat in your snug dressing gowns with messy hair and a hopeful heart, covered in remnants of your chocolate coin breakfast (or is that just me?).

Maybe this year he’ll have done it, maybe this year there will be a new car or a Louis Vuitton suitcase or a massive diamond ring from Berry’s. You ignore the fact that there are no boxes of corresponding sizes, but your hope stays high when you spot the box at the back. Isn’t there always a box at the back? The thing is, you have to be careful. It can contain the key to your dreams (see above) or just another pair of Debenhams slipper socks. Tip: this all depends on whether you’ve already opened the sock one.

My biggest fear at Christmas is getting something truly awful off someone you care about. By this time, you’re used to your grandparents eccentricities, but you always hold out hope for the other half. Despite having watched mine buy me £20 worth of HMV vouchers on every special occasion thus far, my heart still flutters come present opening time. I think “Please, please not vouchers for me, I promise I’ll be good, I won’t nag, I’ll remember to leave the seat up for you and I’ll cook properly every night instead of relying on what’s left in the Vicky Centre Tesco at 6.59pm. Please let there be something nice in that box. It doesn’t even have to be big. It can be small! Ok then, not too small…”

No matter what the presents under the tree are, however, I am always guaranteed some sure-fire winners from my mum. Every year she puts a stocking at the end of bed (I say stocking, but it ranges from one of dads old socks to a Sainsbury’s carrier bag). This always contains: a tangerine, monkey nuts, make up, a quiz book, a fancy pen, earrings and gold chocolate coins (she’s recently upgraded from Woolworths to Thorntons). I remember trying to return the favour one year by leaving chocolate Santa’s under her pillow. They were discovered three months later down the back of the bed, soft, squishy and resembling green baby poo.

Christmas is a great time! It doesn’t matter if you’re broke, single or really ugly. Get out of bed, put on some trainers and head into town! It’s a time of guaranteed parties! Go out and celebrate, eat too much, drink yourself silly, dance on the bars in the Lace Market and grind up against imaginary Forest players wearing paper hats. But most of all, hope beyond hope that the box at the back contains something other than socks or HMV vouchers...