It’s Christmas, a time to be with your loved ones or at least pretend that you like them in order to get a half decent gift or one you can exchange for the cash value on Boxing Day.

In our house Christmas is a huge deal. My mum still cooks like there are a billion people attending and will always make sure everyone has something they want. For me its always a chocolate pudding rather then Christmas pudding because we all know raisins are gross!

We will fill our belly’s until we are all sat wide eyed, top button on our trousers opened and splayed. In my case I would have changed into PJs, and will roll myself downstairs where I will spend the evening fighting off either a pissed off cat or hyper niece from jumping on me, causing me to have a Christmas vomit.

We will argue over what to watch on TV. Dad will be snoring on the majority of the sofa meaning we have to take to the hard wooden floor, hoping that we’ve drunk enough booze to not feel the bum sores. We will be shouted at by my sister that she “JUST WANT TO WATCH DOCTOR WHO IN QUIET” which will inevitably cause myself and my brother to take the piss (amazing how you revert to being a child again at your parent’s house), whilst mum quietly drinks gin in the corner.

At around 7pm, mum will roll out plates of left over gammon, many cheeses, the crackers she brought in Costco six months ago and pickles covered in dust but weirdly still in date and pile them onto the wooden chest in the front room. We will all protest we are full, yet sit stuffing our faces with more food, all whilst complaining about doing tiny voms in our mouths.

We will be contend. We will be well fed. We will forget about all the shit of the year.

In that moment we will remember what matters. And that is being with your family or friends, stuffing yourself until you cry that you will never eat anything again until the New Year. You will laugh, you will cry and you will feel loved.

Merry Christmas – may you enjoy your food and the inevitable stuffing and sprout regret poo on Boxing Day.