#904 home boy for Xmas
Saturday 18th December, 2010
How lucky to have such choice. I can see why you’ve taken a back up with you to Christmas Dinner – a singularly ‘formal’ distraction from what you really want to be doing when there’s snow outside, mince pies to munch and presents to pass around. I have heard it said that the Christmas menus is to be the most disgusting meal ever created, but then I am also reminded of similar ghastly Sunday roasts from those high-street carvery where pounds of flesh fog up the window, and those with a blue rinse hover, a little too long given the similarity, over the blackened remains of something that used to resemble something with feathers. Once. A very long time and pre oven ago. Nobody sane would actually opt to undertake the full operation of Christmas Dinner. It’s a ‘high end’ familial excuse designed to wrong foot and make as dour as possible from what is actually a very fun and loving time of year.
Another tactic is to gain advantage from your Christmas generosity. Perhaps boyfriend could do with a new digital camera? – I hear Argos have some good offers – then make sure that this model requires his needing to charge the item for most of the day (thereby cutting down on picture exposure), and once he does get his new ‘toy’ up and running, he will be mostly behind the lens with you in front. Thus, you appear ‘single’ and suitably Christmas aloof for ‘Guy at uni’. A win all around.
Simpler still is to remove all evidence of either chap from you Facebook pages and feign ‘innocence’ if either asks what your motivations are. Unlikely to work, but then I am still fascinated by the gullibility of the whole Christmas season where small children can be sent to bed early for a ‘fat jolly man’ to enter the house, fart around and leave his presents; fathers fake enthusiasm for socks; mothers the same with ‘something from The Body Shop’ and the rest of us convince ourselves that our waistlines are not expanding, its just that our washing machine is particularly viscous this week and has shrunk all our denim.