I think the time has come for a bit of honesty. I know some of you may find what I am about to share with you rather shocking, but I'm afraid there is no gentle way of imparting this information.
On the other hand, for the rest of you, this will come as no surprise whatsoever.
Ok. Here goes ...
Father Christmas is not a man.
Father Christmas is actually a woman.
It's true.
I discovered this little known fact many years ago, probably around a year or so after the birth of my first son. I discovered that 'Father Christmas' couldn't really get his head around the enormity of the high expectations which come with having children. It seemed that whenever I needed to discuss the practicalities of organising Christmas, ie the logistics of hosting a Christmas dinner for all the family and all that it entailed; from the size of the Turkey to the finest Christmas Crackers, it was not on his list of top priorities. It was then that I realised that if I wanted anything done, I was going to have to talk to the boss - Santa Mummy.
I discovered that Santa Mummy and I had a huge amount in common. We both liked to start thinking about Christmas before Christmas Eve, we both loved the enormous responsibility of providing the best Christmas ever for our families, and we were prepared to go to any length to ensure this - even if this meant wrapping presents at 2am and leaving a trail of Christmas crackers down the stairs leading to the tree which was surrounded by an abundance of carefully chosen gifts, beautifully adorned with ribbons, bows and baubles, as well as the overflowing stockings next to the crumb laden plate where a carrot, a glass of sherry and a home-made mince pie had been left for Father Christmas - home-made by Santa Mummy, of course. Naturally, during our many pre-Christmas conversations which always seemed to happen in the wee small hours, an often mentioned topic was that of the difficulties many men face when dealing with the challenges of Christmas. Yes, one cannot imagine the trauma of finding the perfect gift for a difficult to please woman. I hear there are men who spend an entire day on the quest for a gift for the special person in their lives, only to return discouraged and downcast. Imagine that! A whole day searching for one whole gift. I know, it is nigh on impossible to appreciate this nightmare scenario. The exhaustion doesn't bear thinking about.
I think it has been a defining moment in my personal development for me to let you into the secret that I have been privy to for far too long. I hope I have not shattered the dreams that many have held dear. So just remember, when you write your Christmas list, make sure that this year you address it to Santa Mummy. And one other thing ... when you're leaving out the little snack on Christmas Eve, apparently (or so I've been told) she prefers Cava to a sherry!
Merry Christmas!
On the other hand, for the rest of you, this will come as no surprise whatsoever.
Ok. Here goes ...
Father Christmas is not a man.
Father Christmas is actually a woman.
It's true.
I discovered this little known fact many years ago, probably around a year or so after the birth of my first son. I discovered that 'Father Christmas' couldn't really get his head around the enormity of the high expectations which come with having children. It seemed that whenever I needed to discuss the practicalities of organising Christmas, ie the logistics of hosting a Christmas dinner for all the family and all that it entailed; from the size of the Turkey to the finest Christmas Crackers, it was not on his list of top priorities. It was then that I realised that if I wanted anything done, I was going to have to talk to the boss - Santa Mummy.
I discovered that Santa Mummy and I had a huge amount in common. We both liked to start thinking about Christmas before Christmas Eve, we both loved the enormous responsibility of providing the best Christmas ever for our families, and we were prepared to go to any length to ensure this - even if this meant wrapping presents at 2am and leaving a trail of Christmas crackers down the stairs leading to the tree which was surrounded by an abundance of carefully chosen gifts, beautifully adorned with ribbons, bows and baubles, as well as the overflowing stockings next to the crumb laden plate where a carrot, a glass of sherry and a home-made mince pie had been left for Father Christmas - home-made by Santa Mummy, of course. Naturally, during our many pre-Christmas conversations which always seemed to happen in the wee small hours, an often mentioned topic was that of the difficulties many men face when dealing with the challenges of Christmas. Yes, one cannot imagine the trauma of finding the perfect gift for a difficult to please woman. I hear there are men who spend an entire day on the quest for a gift for the special person in their lives, only to return discouraged and downcast. Imagine that! A whole day searching for one whole gift. I know, it is nigh on impossible to appreciate this nightmare scenario. The exhaustion doesn't bear thinking about.
I think it has been a defining moment in my personal development for me to let you into the secret that I have been privy to for far too long. I hope I have not shattered the dreams that many have held dear. So just remember, when you write your Christmas list, make sure that this year you address it to Santa Mummy. And one other thing ... when you're leaving out the little snack on Christmas Eve, apparently (or so I've been told) she prefers Cava to a sherry!
Merry Christmas!
