This Christmas began with me tearing my hair out on the living room floor as I attempted to fish presents out from underneath the tree and stuff them into a tiny hold-all bag. The plan was to pack lightly, as I was only going home for a couple of days, however I didn’t think about this when I was pre-emptively buying gifts back in October (organised yes, weight conscious, no) because I’d bought so much, they wouldn’t fit for one, and I couldn’t even lift the damn thing.
Now I’m the kind of person who takes at least 200 pairs of knickers with me for an overnight stay (because you ‘never know’ – never know what? That I’m going to come across a pants thief?! I blame my mum for passing on this mental logic) so I presumed it was because I’d overpacked as per usual, but no, I’d just been way too generous on the present-front! Luckily Ange’s mum saved the day by bringing round a huge suitcase last minute so I was able to cram everything inside. I still couldn’t lift it, but luckily I kept bumping into nice men on the tube and the train, who offered to carry it up the stairs for me. I can’t decide if they were just being festive or a bit pervy, especially as one demanded a kiss from me in return (I reluctantly offered him my cheek and an awkward smile), but thanks to them I got to Portsmouth without breaking out into much of a sweat.
On Christmas Eve my family and I cracked opened a few bottles of beer and walked to the local Italian restaurant, which is only about five minutes away, so we must have looked like raging alcoholics/chavs. After that they came with me to the pub where I saw my lovely friends, drank far too much, and staggered back home to crash out on my mum’s sofa, before waking up approximately two hours later for Christmas Day (ouch, my head).
We opened presents and a bottle of cava at about 11am and then all fell asleep for a few hours before making the voyage to our neighbours house for a gorgeous turkey roast. Everyone had already had a few by the time we turned up and as we sat round the table, discussion quickly turned to important things like the funny behaviour of my cat, Pixie. My mum’s friend randomly proclaimed: ‘Actually, I think Pixie is probably transgender. Or a bit of a boy or a girl. You know, something like that. Which is quite fitting!’ God knows how she came to this conclusion, but I was laughing too much to ask!
The eight of us then played a game someone had invented, whereby you each write down eight random things and put them in a bowl, before muddling them up and splitting into two groups. One round involves describing a card to your team-mates without using the word itself, for the second, you have to use just three words to describe a particular card, and on the third round, you can only mime. I thought it would be hilarious to chuck ‘Kim Kardashian’, ‘Nicki Minaj’, ’50 Shades of Grey’ and ‘squid rings’ into the mix, and when I saw my brother acting out massive boobs and a huge bum, it was definitely worth it. Plus, one of the blokes started Hawaiian dancing for 50 shades, which is something I will never, ever be able to erase from my mind!
On Boxing Day my brother and I drove up to the midlands to see our dad and grandparents, and we had a second Christmas dinner followed by a ton of cakes and sweets. By this point I was feeling like my stomach would explode but we powered on through, came back to my flat, and chilled in front of the TV with Ange. The two of them managed to eat McDonalds, which I would have loved, but I was stuffed. However I did, bravely, manage to eat some pick ‘n’ mix sweets.
I had a great Christmas and I’m really thankful to my family for my lovely presents and all the laughter. But now, I’m now ready for the music to stop, the decorations to come down, and the weather to sort its act out. Roll on spring!