Well, that's over, and with a bit of luck my favourite part of the season will be here by tomorrow at the latest. I refer to that magical moment when the Creme Eggs are in One-Stop round the corner.

I have had too many **** Christmases over the years, and consequently I see it as something to be endured, with minimum effort on my part. Nonetheless,

I do have some festive memories that still make me cringe or laugh, and hope you may recall some of your own.

We used to have chocolate tree decorations as well as shiny baubles when I was small. One year when I was about five, I found myself accidentally eating one (the chocolate kind that is) well before the day. I hit on the brilliant idea of filling the shiny foil wrapping with cotton wool, re-shaping before putting it back on the tree. Unfortunately I found I was unable to resist, so by Christmas Day all the chocolate ones were actually dummies. I was not yet old enough to understand consequences, it was all about instant gratification. I can imagine Spock would say “What's changed?" I lied through my teeth, but they did not want to know. I was not popular.

Years later my ex and I were invited to have Christmas lunch with new neighbours, a retired couple who had befriended us. I took a homemade pudding and starters, and Florence cooked the rest. I was already relaxed, having had some sherry when I woke up. The two men were engrossed in cryptic crosswords, my son playing with new toys. Florence was quite a refined person, but boy could she drink. I happily joined her. A few times her hubby looked over his specs, giving her what Paddington would call a hard stare. She ignored him.

The cooker went off, and we two staggered unsteadily into the kitchen, giggling. The turkey was perfectly cooked, and we lifted the tray out betweeen us. Then we dropped it, and the turkey slithered across the floor, along with roasted veg. Shrieking with laughter we rushed to pick it up, only to both slide on the pool of grease and lie there helpless, swearing like troopers.

Somehow we got food on the table. The men kept saying "What's got into you two?" little knowing how many paper towels were needed to remove the dog hair and grit from what they were eating. That's all I could remember when I awoke next day, my husband having carried me back home over his shoulder.

When my son was 17 his father persuaded him to be Santa Clause at the annual Chamber of Commerce charity event, taking presents to children in a deprived inner city area. None of the older men seemed keen to take the role, there had apparently been an incident the previous year, but they brushed over it, it had been an unfortunate one-off. Nothing to worry about. 

They arrived, festive music blasting from the amplifier. The people supposed to be distributing the gifts were nowhere to be seen. They sat and waited, then all hell let loose. It seemed the locals did not appreciate the generosity. Missiles were thrown, insults hurled, kids and adults jumped onto the sleigh and helped themselves. Santa knew he was outnumbered, the drivers of the wagon locked themselves in, so he left the mob to get on with it and legged it as they all cheered…

So come on, have you had any Chritmases that did not go as planned?

Val

A Moodscope member