I calculated I have to buy 36 presents before Christmas which is in precisely 15 days, 13 hours, 26 minutes, 12 seconds and counting. I have to write three times as many Christmas cards, order a turkey, a plethora of cheeses, decide what special super, duper, knock the pants of my guests pudding I am going to make for boxing day, make 30 gingerbread men, wrap all the presents once I’ve bought them (oh joy of joys – I’m not cut out to be a Blue Peter presenter if you get my drift) and oh, loads more things that I can’t even bear to think about otherwise I will start sweating and shaking.
For me, the best thing about preparing for Christmas is that you can drink alcohol pretty much any time of the day without people asking too many questions. However, even as I sit here contemplating the real meaning of Christmas even the alcohol doesn’t offer much comfort. I mean, ”what’s it all about?”
Surely writing a card with a special, personal message that brings joy to the person reading it should be a pleasure? Planning a delicious meal to delight the family and friends should create a warm, healthy glow in one’s cheeks (or is that the alcohol again?!)
When you strip away all the baubles and bling basically Christmas is about one baby in a manger, one baby that was so special the angels could be heard singing from heaven, one baby so special wise men travelled for miles to worship him, one baby so special we are still worshiping him today.
So why don’t we do that? Rather than dashing from one carol concert to a nativity play jamming in a bit of shopping in between and making sure we have the best lights display in the whole neighbourhood lets just stop all this nonsense and take time out to really immerse ourselves in the true meaning of Christmas.