Please can we cancel Christmas

Posted Tuesday 21st October 2014   By Ericka Waller

So it’s bloody happening. I went into a supermarket and tripped over a massive display of discounted Christmas puddings while Slade assaulted my eardrums with some unknown tune about how he wishes it could be Christmas every day.

I bet he didn’t write that after spending five hours driving round a TESCO Express car-park at 7pm on a Christmas eve needing some Cranberry Sauce.

I used to love Christmas. I was one of those smug bastards who shopped all year round for presents, so when the 1st December came, I already had most of my shopping done. All I needed to do was deck my halls with boughs of holly, then make apple and blackberry jam.

This year I have morphed into the Grinch. Christmas can do one.

I don’t want an ‘elf on my shelf’. That is what got me into this mess in the first place.

I’ve no money, no time, no energy and no belief in the story of Christmas. I bet Mary didn’t get a ride to Bethlehem. Joseph probably told her to waddle along beside him, while he rode the donkey, playing on his i-bible all the way. “Why would you get an easy ride? It’s not even my baby you are carrying love, or have you forgotten?”

And Santa was no doubt screwed before Sat-Navs came out, but would never admit it. It’s probably why I never got that bloody bike I wanted, but Hayley four doors down was seen riding one on boxing day, smug cow.

I have Christmas Tourettes. How am I going to cure it in time? How am I going to find the money for all the toys that Nickelodeon frigging Jr keep advertising which my children simply must have?

Guilt toys I feel I simply must get them because they are now from a ‘broken’ home and this Christmas I’ll be nibbling lumps out the carrot, pretending to be Rudolph, while the children are asleep upstairs ‘dreaming dreams without care’.

My daughter's face says it all....Bah fecking humbug!

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