Every December, I'm known as the Grinch. Scrooge, Victor Meldrew. I hate Christmas. The streets are so busy you can't walk a flea. The couples are magically appearing and kissing under the rotten mistletoe. Everyone who is usually miserable and rude in London is suddenly oh so jolly! They are almost as fake as Jordan's breasts. Oh how I hate Christmas. But that was last year. And the year before that. And pretty much every year since I found out Christmas was all about a baby and Cliff Richard singing dreadful songs.
But THIS year my Grinch heart has finally grown a few sizes bigger than it was. Why? Because IM now one of those cheesy couples. Choosing gifts, wrapping them up, writing a soppy message in the card and grating some extra parmesan cheese into the envelope. I'm even finding myself more in the mood to watch Harry Potter on a Saturday night with a cup of Eggnog instead of going out to get wasted before throwing up my bitter stomach lining.
What's made me look forward to this Christmas even more is that I will be in Sweden. Visiting the rest of the Hefter family WITH my boyfriend. It couldn't get more perfect. I almost feel smug considering I've had to spend a couple of Christmases alone in the past.
The snow is already falling in Sweden, the tree will be cut from the nearby forest and the log fire will be ready and waiting. Board games, warm cider, and a stocking await. Oh I can almost hear Cliff Richard singing in the background.
So there you have it dear jolly friends, I'm cured. I'm all cozy and excited about this year's festivities. ....
There is just ONE. SMALL. PROBLEM.. I will not be buying, taking, borrowing, or wearing a Christmas jumper. To me, a Christmas jumper is that step too far. It's the epitome of the stilton at Christmas. The people in my new job in West London are feeling very festive and my managers have asked me to wear a Christmas jumper into work for a charity. They can sod off. I'd rather wear a cut out bin bag than an itchy lit up ridiculous Christmas jumper. There is a charity event happening where I'm asked to wrap up some gifts for the homeless, give some of my hard earned money away, hey, Ill even donate my eggs! That's fine with me! But I will NOT be wearing a Christmas jumper!!
Someone called out Bar Humbug to me yesterday on my lunch break. Can't a girl sit in peace with her Big Mac? I'm not bothered if people at my work think I'm a Scrooge. They have no idea how much I'm looking forward to pulling a cracker with my old crazy Uncle and give my boyfriend his gifts which are covered in a fabulous wrapping of cats in bow ties. But it is Naomi Hefter you are reading about after all, and I'm always going be a bit of a Grinch at heart.Suggest a correction