I am an unabashed, unashamed Christmasphile. I love everything to do with the season. I love the flavours and smells of this time of year - nutmeg and cinnamon and ginger, oh my!
And the deep breath you take in through the nose before your first sip of mulled wine of the season is one to be savoured. Twinkly lights adorn, well, everywhere and that’s perfect because it gets dark just early enough to appreciate them on your stroll home from work, breath clearly visible in front of you. While you walk you think smugly how cute you look in your matching hat, scarf and gloves. And then you get in and you have actual hand-written post from friends and family, and an old favourite Christmas film coming up after the break. Ah, ‘tis the season, folks.
I even love Christmas shopping. No, really. It’s my job to find the perfect Christmas gift for those closest to me, and it’s a responsibility I take seriously. I look forward to their enjoyment of the gift I have carefully weighed and chosen for them.
But, for all my love, there is one thing I despair of every year. And that is the unfathomable gift you need to buy for the people in your life who refuse to give you any sort of indication as to what they would like. How can I fulfil my Christmas responsibilities if you won’t let me?
My Mum, for instance, when probed about Christmas gifts, will invariably respond ‘sure, don’t be wasting your money’. She is shocked every year that her three grown-up children and not-so-grown-up husband have remembered her, and actually bought her things! And because she never buys for herself, it is hard to know what she would if she wasn’t so bloody selfless! Oh, she is truly a terrible woman.
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And Dads at Christmas deserve a whole other section to be filed under Gifts: Tricky. Because Dads do want things, they do, truly. They just never want the thing you think they want. So, based on his interest in all things nature, I purchased the Lonely Planet box-set a few years ago. It remains snug and unwatched in its plastic. Similarly, he went through a sketching phase, so I purchased him some art supplies - still untouched and clean as the driven snow. The only item I have ever purchased for my Dad that he actually used was, wait for it, special blue and white tape for the handle of his hurls. So at training his would be easy to identify.
Office Kris Kindle is perhaps the trickiest though. Especially when you don’t have dealings with large chunks of your colleagues. Murphy’s Law will ensure that you get the person you have never spoken to or laid eyes on, and that this person will have a gender-neutral name and you will have to try and buy something inoffensive for a complete stranger. But at least there’s a price limit...
So tell us, who makes your naughty list for Christmas? Who are the people who turn you from to German Christmas Markets to Grinch? And do you have any tips to help us through this difficult time?
