When I was younger, the night before Christmas Day would transform me into a full blown insomniac. I would go to bed nice and early on Christmas Eve, only to wake up around 3 AM and see the stocking at the end of my bed and find myself giddy with anticipation at the day ahead. One year, too excited to even think about sleeping again, I filled the time with reading books- that old form of entertainment before we had iPods, iPads and Kindles- until 7 AM where I could finally justify running in to my parent’s room to reap the rewards of the day.
Now, my Christmas Eve is so jam packed that I never have any trouble getting a good night’s kip, but we all still manage to get up in the late morning to open our presents together. My Nan stays round, so there are five of us eagerly opening our stockings to see what Father Christmas has bought us each year, before we spend the morning enjoying our new gifts. It’s never Christmas without a new pair of socks and a toothbrush, and as usual he didn’t disappoint. Even though I’m now twenty two, I could never bear the idea of just giving money to my family; it just doesn’t compare to the moment of opening presents together.
I only ever have a slice of toast for breakfast, as I need to save room for the main attraction. At one, it’s over to my Aunt’s for Christmas Day lunch, where we all have a good catch up with my Mum’s side of the family before devouring what can only be described as the most delicious roast in existence. It’s not just the turkey- the sausage meat stuffing is to die for. If only I could write poems of tribute to the power of the stuffing. Everyone else in my family has tried to repeat the recipe, but no one has come close. Sorry Mum.
After that, it’s time for more presents from the family, before the ominous presence of pudding rears its head; somehow welcome, yet not at the same time. After that, I was in charge of the Christmas quiz, the first we’ve done in many years, and I never believed there would be so much stress from trying to choose the right questions. I changed the music round several times when I realised my “mainstream” choices were a bit too obscure.
It’s not often I realize how incredibly lucky I am at Christmas. The last Saturday before Christmas, dubbed “panic Saturday,” saw scores of shoppers frantically searching for something to encourage a smile from their family members on the big day. The upside of this is that you may just find the perfect little trinket or toy to bring joy to their Christmas. The downside is the cruel hypocrisy that while we go consumerist crazy, there are many who will be in poverty, in debt, or alone. 13 million in the UK alone will be in poverty. In 2015. What a golden age we live in.
I’m sorry if that might seem a rather sobering statement where really, on the big day, the last thing many of us want to think about is the problems that we face in the real world. It’s that reason exactly why we can’t have Christmas everyday, not simply because it wouldn’t be special anymore; the world as we know it wouldn’t be able to function properly if it was. I’m not saying go out and donate all you have to charities either; I’m simply saying you should value what you have each Christmas, and by that I mean those around you and what is intrinsically important in your life.