Here’s a poem my friend Kate’s uncle, Barrie Armstrong, swears he found on a supermarket floor about this time last year.
There’s nothing I need add to this. But I do want to say that I think the last line is an absolute killer in so many ways. Chapeau, unknown shopper for basics.
(With apologies to my more alert readers who may remember it from January this year on this blog. But then, they may not be trying to stage an ‘adequately fun’ Christmas for four children. That’s why they’re alert. If they are involved in Christmas with children in any quantity, then they’ve won. Official. Father Christmas loves you the most.)
I wish all of you, even the organised and competent, of who I’m deeply jealous and in awe, a very merry time this Christmas and New Year. And, I thank you all, the razer sharp, the comfortably comatose and everyone in between, for sticking with me this far.