So, That Was Christmas Then?…………….

I always get a little down just after Christmas. Nothing to serious mind, its not like I’m going to suddenly hang myself with sparkly tinsel or anything. I think its more a combination of having a solid two months of literally everything screaming at you “Its Christmas!” and then the day being over quicker than the space between two heartbeats. Its bound to leave you a bit blue, and all those decorations and lights always serve to remind you that its all over and there are no more presents to unwrap. Which sucks.

Have to say though, I have just had the best Christmas I have had in many a year, and I have also got some great gifts as well.

Here is my list:

A range of Dermalogica products (which also includes hand cream)

A funky new scarf

A funky new man bag

Pants

The Thick of It book

Inception Blu Ray

Expensive hot chocolate and a mug

Scented candles for my flat (this list is not showing me in the best of lights)

Aftershave- Hugo Boss Energise

Chocolates

Shower gel

Socks (Partially eaten)

£20 HMV voucher

Now from that list you can probably get a fairly good assumption of who I am. By the looks of it I am a metrosexual male who loves scented candles, man bags, Leonardo Dicaprio, jaunty scarves, hot chocolate and who really, really smells. Oh, and I need lots of pants as well. And socks.

Yeah, I can live with all that. In my defence though, a lot of that stuff I really need, especially the hand cream as I have been getting really dry hands and have had to suffer the indignity of borrowing hand cream off the girls at work. But with this new stuff my hands are now silky smooth and feel divine! They are all going to love me when I return and start letting them use it occasionally. I will finally be one of them. 

My Christmas started on Christmas Eve where I do my normal tradition of going round to Kates mums for dinner. This year was to be different though as normally I would go home alone for Christmas Day, but this year Kates, and her dad and brother, were going to come back with me to spend the day round mine, me being the genial host and everything. Check me out, I’m well adult now.

When I arrived at Kates I was greeted by the sight of her dog Peggy, a lovely staff, running round dressed in a Santa outfit. I couldn’t tell if she was pleased about this. She looked happy, but to be honest, she always looks happy, but she was dressed in a Santa outfit and did look pretty stupid. She also looked a little shifty as well and I soon found out why.

“There's been a bit of an accident with your stocking,” Kates mum told me as I took my coat off.

“Accident?” I replied.

“Yeah, Peggy had been down it and eaten all your chocolates and some of your socks.”

I looked down at Peggy who was by my feet, tail wagging and a lopsided grin plastered all over her face.

“You’ve eaten my Christmas socks?”

Now anyone who knows me knows how I always need new socks. Christmas was my one time of year that I get to restock. And now this little garbage can on legs had just eaten them.

“Its only one pair,” Kates mum said after seeing the crestfallen expression on my face.

“Its okay, honestly. These things happen,” I said with a fixed grin plastered all over my facehole, mentally plotting on how I was going to get my revenge on the little furry shitbag.

When everyone was out of earshot, I leant down to Peggy and whispered in her ear, “You look absolutely ridiculous in that outfit,” and then got a big wet lick up the side of my cheek for my troubles. It was hard to stay mad at her.

Once we were settled then the feasting began. Kates mum is a fantastic cook and this year decided that we weren't going to have a sit down meal, but lots and lots of nibbles. And believe me, there were a lot. Plate after plate came out, a never ending parade of delights that all looked delicious. The next few hours were lost in a sea of Brie and Cranberry parcels, honey and mustard glazed sausages, tiny Indian and Chinese bites, and many, many more. By the end of it I was half slumped  on the sofa, tears of defeat running freely down my cheeks and the meat shakes hitting my body from overindulgence.

“Who wants homemade Chocolate and Peanut Butter Cheesecake?” Kates mum said breezily, not noticing that I had slipped into a food coma. “Dan, I know you’ll have a big slice,wont you?”

I could only smile weakly and make a buh noise that was supposed to resemble, “Yes please, I’d love a huge slice, and also a stomach pump as well if you have one handy?”

Still ate it though. I’m hardcore me.

Eventually it was time for bed and to wait for Santa. The feast did leave me with terrible wind though, I’d like to say it was very Christmassy and sounded like Jingle Bells when it came out, but it didn’t. It sounded evil, and that's because it was. But as I was sharing a bed with Kates AND Peggy (who always sleeps under the blanket with us), I got my revenge on the sock eating little shit by farting on her head all night.

After present opening in the morning, me, Kates and Peggy went to pick up her dad and brother so we could head on back to mine. I was a little nervous as I would be hosting and cooking all at the same time. I had never done this before and was conscious that I could screw up everyone's Christmas if it went wrong. When we got to mine, I opened the door and was greeting by my cat Dotty running up to greet us as she always did. When she saw that her favourite dog had come round to visit once more, she quickly did a mid-air somersault and ran off to spend all of Christmas asleep on top of my fridge.

I got everyone settled, poured out the drinks and passed the nibbles, and then went into the kitchen to start the cooking. I looked at the huge turkey sitting there and it looked back at me. I will tame you bitch I thought to myself, and then began to cook. We had enough to feed a small army and I only had a small oven, so it became a hot game of Jenga trying to figure out ways to fit all of the trays and whatnot into it. I had a momentary panic when I thought that my stuffing balls weren’t cooking, but that passed in time. I’m pretty sure it was me whispering, “ Cook you tiny bastards” at them. I felt like a safecracker as I was hunched over the temperature dial, just teasing another little extra bit of heat and watching for things that might be burning.

“Is everything going okay?” Kates asked me as she popped her head into my kitchen.

“YES! EVERYTHING IS FINE! GO HAVE FUN IN THE LIVING ROOM! FUN! GO NOW!”

“Whoa, okay kitchen Nazi,” she said, backing out slowly with her hands raised.

Eventually everything looked as if it was cooked. To be honest I was so stressed out by then that I couldn’t care less if I poisoned everyone and I was mentally planning on where I could bury the bodies in my communal gardens if it all went wrong. I dished up, served up, and sat down to eat, nervously watching as people took their first bites.

“This is delicious.” Kates.

“This turkey is really good.” Kates dad.

“Pass the cranberry sauce.” Kates brother.

And I looked round in amazement. It was a Christmas dinner. A proper Christmas dinner that I had prepared and that everyone was enjoying.

I felt like a God.

And on the 12th day Dan said, “Let there be food!” And the food was good.

After we ate and nobody died (which is the hallmarks of a successful meal), we sat in the living room to play Goldeneye on the Wii. After a stressful 25 minutes trying to figure out how to set the bloody thing up, we were all ready to play the multiplayer, which basically involved running round shooting each other, something every family wants to secretly do at Christmas. Me being the ubergeek that I am, I immediately got the hang of it and was stalking the others through the level. Others weren't so quick to adapt.

“Which one am I and why can’t I move?” asked Kates dad. I quickly spotted him as the one facing the wall, trying to run through it, and put a bullet in his head.

Oh, someone's dead,” Kates dad said.

“That's you Gary,” I replied.

“Oh.”

Kates was also struggling to work out the controls and I found her in a corner, jumping up and down relentlessly, so I thought it best to put her out of her misery.

“I don’t like this game,“ she cried.

“You just can’t handle my mad skills,” I said.

“I can’t handle you being a massive geek who knows how to play these games, loser.”

To be fair, she was right.

After another ten minutes playing this we all realised that it was actually a bit poo and called it a day. By now everyone was feeling the effects of all the drink and food and was getting sleepy. I stuck on the film Avatar for everyone to watch and we slowly slipped into that post dinner semi slumber.

About halfway through the film, Kates dad woke up sleepily from his doze, looked at the screen and said, “Blue people on the telly,” and then slipped back into sleep again. A pretty fair summing up of the film I think you’ll agree?

Once it was over it was finally time for everyone to go home. After saying goodbye, I found myself alone in my flat to take stock of the day. Now normally, for reasons I won’t go into, Christmas is a hard time of year for me and something that I don’t really get into that much. But this year was different, this year I had the best Christmas that I’ve had in a long time. And I think it was because I was with people that I cared for, and that cared for me back. Which if you think about, beneath all the presents and the sense of occasion, is all what Christmas really boils down to.

Plus I didn’t kill anyone, which is always a massive bonus.

So now the final part of the holiday to get through is New Year. I am lucky in the sense that Kates hates New Year just as much as I do. All the pressure to go out and have fun, screw that. I’m not paying the best part of £40 to go somewhere that would normally cost me nothing on any other day. We always have an anti New Years Eve by having a nice meal in a restaurant in the early evening, take a stroll around London, and then go home to glare at people out of our window.

I know whose the winner in that scenario.

Happy New Year to you all!