It’s all I hear these days.
“Are ye all set for the Big Day?”
This seems to creep into every conversation though strangely it only seems to be women who ask it.
There seems to be an all pervasive insanity about Christmas, as if it were some kind of alternative reality where you have to pack for it is if it were some strange sort of foreign holiday. People are raiding shop shelves like there is no tomorrow [though if the Mayans are right, maybe there isn’t?]. People are buying a dozen loaves of bread for one day where they would normally use one loaf a week. People are stocking up on batteries and tubs of salt and cases of biscuits and milk by the gallon. You would swear the shops are never going to open again.
Christmas is a day like most others, in that the sun will rise [again – this is conditional on the Mayans being wrong] and we will get up and do the normal things that we do every day. There are a few subtle differences, I grant. It’s not every day I let Herself open my presents for me. It’s not every day that the house is full of grandkids wrecking the place.
It’s not every day that TAT is roaring drunk all day. It’s not every day we have turkey for dinner mainly because none of us likes turkey but for some unfathomable reason, we have to have it. What is the big deal?
Even I have been caught up in all this insanity. I find myself wondering if I will have enough petrol in the car even though I have no plans to go anywhere. I find myself buying an extra bag of two-inch nails Just In Case. I worry about whether I should cut the grass or not.
Do people not realise that the shops are open right up ‘til Christmas? Some shops even stay open on the day itself, so it is always possible to buy an emergency pint of milk. They will be open again immediately after so there is no need to stock up on anything.
I forgot to stock up on charcoal for the barbecue. What if I need some?
I had better go and queue for it now…..