'A Family Christmas?'

Heres something that I hope will put a smile on your face this December! I wrote this a few years ago as part of a series of 'Tall Tales' based on ridiculous ideas that - the Battle Of Hastings was a misunderstanding over a game of conkers - The Beatles were named in memory of a charity darts match and that Politicians were going to penalise those who die before the age of retirement by creating a 'bucket tax'...hang on a minute, that's NOT such a crazy idea is it! (lol)

Anyway, I think this sums up a lot of peoples festive 'sessions' so have a read and a good laugh!

Is Christmas not a time for celebration, frivolity, hilarity, good will to all men, hugs kisses and thoughts of peace? Do we not all welcome ‘rarely seen’ relatives from afar with open arms? Embrace our Mother In Law and our sisters 16 children tenderly?  Share laughter filled evenings playing parlour games and chatting over a glass of wine?

 What? What was that? What planet am I on?

Let’s face it folks, for most of us Christmas is usually enough to make a months holiday in February to the beach at Rock A Nore with Victor Meldrew seem like the ideal package holiday!

Every year, families right across Hastings find themselves ‘treated’ to twelve day’s of Christmas as only the Devil himself could devise. Screaming kids ‘whoop’ as they play noisy computer games, jump up and down on your new settee or delight in teasing the Cat. Family feuds ‘come home to roost’ over the Christmas meal and ‘the missus’ storms off upstairs ‘never to speak to you or your disgusting family again’ while her mother reminds everyone why ‘she always said her daughter should never have married you’. Then of course there are the ‘armies’ of Carol singers that interrupt your ‘serene and blissful existence’. With their horrendously off key versions of ‘We Wish You A Merry Christmas’ they throw snowballs at your windows if you don’t part with a few quid.  Have you noticed how they always stop singing as soon as you give them some money? Its as if their visit is in some way intended as some kind of ‘Christmas Protection Racket’- you give them some cash to go away and they in return put you out of your misery. It’s all perfectly fair really you know?

Ah yes, it always feels good to finish work on Dec 24th after 24 days of continuous overtime for your ‘Christmas Holiday’. As long as you’re not late for work on Boxing Day morning you will qualify for your £15 Christmas voucher (minus tax of course) that you can spend on anything you like in store (as long as it is out of code) to thank you for your loyalty throughout the year.

The best thing about Christmas though is of course the giving and receiving of presents…

You spend an absolute fortune on your relatives – enough to put you in debt for the next three months or so only then on Christmas day to watch them unwrap their gifts and ‘sniff’ at the contents of your ‘lovingly’ wrapped parcels. “Got this already” little Jimmy glares up at you as he tosses the £49 computer game onto his ‘what a load of rubbish’ pile.  “You know I hate blue Nana’ shouts 10 year old Sophie bursting into tears, throwing her half unwrapped new dress to the floor and storming off to her room.

 The one consolation in all of this is that you at least get to do your own ‘annual amateur dramatics’ when opening your own gifts. “Oh Mum, what a lovely present!” You gush at the 9^th pair of slippers you’ve received in so many years. “Socks and pants to” you continue mouth open and wide-eyed. “So useful” pipe up the rest of the family as the world stops still for a moment like in those old horror movies.

Then of course there’s the card writing – how you love to make up witty slogans and buy ‘just the card that’s right’ for each of your relatives. You even hold out hope at that point that they will buy you a decent card themselves this year rather than one of those ‘deluxe’ cards in packs of ten from Tesco’s for a quid.  Seventeen year old ‘Eco Warrior’ Simon even manages to get out of giving you a card or wrapping your present at all under the guise of ‘saving the planet’ and you have to smile sweetly as you take a crumpled looking box of chocolates out of a re-used supermarket carrier bag that smells like old boxer shorts.

Finally, there’s the age difference to deal with…

 “Oh God not the bloody Wizzard Of Oz AGAIN (tut tut). They put that on every single year, that and John Wayne in Stagecoach” chips in Grandad watching the telly at deafening volume while the kids chase each other around the Christmas tree.  Over the years, you’ve noticed how Grandad always likes to add his own special brand of Christmas cheer to the holiday season.  “That’s what I’d like to do to the little toe rags round here that keep vandalising everything. I wouldn’t mess about I tell you, I’d shoot the bastards” he always bellows watching the news after the Queen’s speech. The then follows a five or ten minute lecture on the state of the law in this country today and how that Farmer Tony somebody went wrong because he didn’t shoot BOTH of the burglars that kept breaking into his farm. This is traditionally followed by an announcement that National Service should be brought back and then (while standing to attention) the whole family are forced to listen to 15 minutes of “when I was in the army” stories and told how you had to learn discipline in those days. “If the Sergeant Major said jump you bloody well jumped!” ending up as the punch line.

Yes, it’s a grand time of the year is Christmas… I bet you can’t wait!

So, if any of you have Victor Meldrew’s address – do me a favour?  Drop Jim Hollands a line and ask him to pass it on to me.

HA HA HA

Merry Christmas to you all!