Christmas has turned you into an emotional wreck and pushed you almost beyond breaking point it can now be revealed.
Just five days after the big day and your petulant twelve year-old has announced they’re ‘bored’ and you’re just about managing to keep a lid on your temper, biting your tongue trying not to burden them with a few well-chosen home truths.
In another three weeks the credit card bills will arrive in your inbox, detailing in the cold hard light of the post-festive season, more than a thousand pounds you lavished upon your pride and joy.
That five hundred you spent on the new carbon fibre bike that’s been leaning against the garage wall; now unridden since Boxing Day. Another three hundred on the ‘Beat Studio’ headphones still in their box, not to mention the many hi-tech stocking fillers you provided too.
In your day of course you were more than delighted with a new balaclava, a satsuma and if really lucky, a Cadbury’s Flake snapped in two, shared ‘halfers each’ with your brother. These treasures kept you enthralled at least until the new school term began in January.
And as your own Dad would say every year: ‘You’re damn fortunate to get them too, because in my day all we got, aye and only if we’d kept our noses clean, mind, was a dose of the measles, a new pencil and a garden pea.’
How times change, eh? Still, not to worry as deep down you’re sure all the effort and expense might have still been worth it. Well, maybe… probably anyway. Merry Christmas.
*Sounds of uncontrolled sobbing*