Dropping a Yule Blog
So, to paraphrase John Lennon, that was Christmas!
It seems only fair to say that I hope you all got what you wanted from Father Christmas (I refuse to call him Santa). I have had the usual disappointment that I think all people over the age of 22 must have when they spend Christmas with their parents. That’s right, a piss-poor selection of presents.
Why is it that just because you get a proper job, you suddenly become ineligible for imaginative or exciting presents? I mean last year the highlight was a bin for my car.
I will just re-iterate that. To celebrate the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ, my parents bought me something to put McDonalds cups in when I’m driving. Oh sure it’s practical, and yes my car was verging on Biohazard status… but seriously!!!
So this year, they played it safe with a cheque to be shared between TS and me (and I have made good use of mine by finding something genuinely worth having in the post-Christmas Sales). But what did I have to open on Christmas morning? A selection of plain long-sleeved t-shirts (luckily I don’t have a weak heart), some fudge (quick, i feel faint with the thrill), and… erm… actually that’s pretty much it. Oh, sorry… I also got a bottle of whisky.
In virtually every other respect, a return trip home usually results in my parents ignoring the fact I’m 27, engaged, have a mortgage, and can represent car thieves in the Magistrates Court. No, instead they treat me like i’m 17 and shouldn’t be trusted with scissors! However, when it comes to this time of year (well, Christmas or my birthday, when present quality is inversely proportionate to my age), suddenly my maturity is at the forefront of my parents’ imagination and they think that I am able to get whatever I like on a daily basis.
I can’t complain too much though. Due to a combination of work, family issues, and my usual festive denial that I have any deadline at all for buying presents. I did actually venture into the biggest shopping centre in the North of England in an attempt to buy a PS2 game for my brother. I even went into the ridiculously overcrowded shops to try and buy the sodding thing, but was denied by the lack of interest in Ice Hockey simulations by the masses of Manchester.
As for the folks, well I have got a present idea but it’s an experience (of sorts), so I can’t buy it until I know precisely when they are going to be free to use it. Not really a bad excuse that one!
As for TS… well we’ve not actually got anything for each other yet. She has bought me a couple of books written by a guy called Charlie Brooker (more about him in future posts I think), but other than that we’ve agreed that we need to save as much cash as I can for the Masterplan (again, sorry to be making promises for the future of the blog, but you’ll have to wait for that).
So there you have it. Christmas ’07 has been and gone. And you know what made it even more drab? The fact that the only Bond films shown featured Roger Moore. Next year, I’m dreaming of a Connery Christmas!
