no alternative

It’s the same ever year. It all happens in December. First there’s a cluster of high maintenance birthdays in the Family Backroads. On top of all that there’s Christmas to get ready for. Then, the first Mrs Backroads (let’s call her Mme Cul de Sac) starts playing up. The current Mrs Backroads starts nesting. The future Mrs Backroads wins Strictly Come Dancing and lands a leading role in Chicago. Not only this but in addition to mega-project-one already under way at work, I pick up not one, but two more.

Then there’s the usual round of school plays and fairs, works do’s, etc. Is it as manic for you? I’ve had to photocopy my bum in advance of this year’s office party. In fact I’ve scanned it and emailed it to everyone with apologies just in case I can’t get there. (Someone from Security called and rambled on about email abuse and said I could start a virus. Someone called from Welfare called and said from the look of my spotty arse I’ve already got a virus. Not very festive is it?).

On Sunday I nipped off to get the Christmas Tree with Snicket and Alley. I always say ‘let’s just get a small one this year’ and end up coming back with a donation from the Norwegian government.. Still there was wassailing and egg-nog as the Family Backroads gaily decorated the tree… Actually there was the usual load of swearing as I tried to wedge the tree upright in it’s depleted uranium base. Sweet Jesus. Then there was more swearing as I trailed the three sets of lights around it only to find that not a single set worked when I switched them on. In the name of Christ.

Anyway, as we religiously tear off the little windows from our traditional Simpsons chocolate advent calendars each day, the prospect of a few days off at Christmas has never seemed more alluring.