Santa’s coming to town

 

Are you taking the kids to see Santa Claus? Plummy Mummy has another agenda …

 

Santa's Coming to Town

 

I lost my faith aged 6. My sister and I were lying in bed on Christmas Eve pretending to be asleep. The door opened a crack, and we glimpsed the big man in red (though strangely barefoot), with a hint of white curly beard, tiptoe in with the heavy stockings. We held our breaths. He was finding his bearings in the pitch black.

SUDDENLY …
BASH! CRASH! The sound of ankle bone connecting with cold, hard radiator.

“OW! For F**K’S sake!” shouted Santa in Dad’s voice.

Innocence ended right there.

After that, all visits to Father Christmas at Herrods, Selfishes and Harvey’s Nickers were tarnished forever.

Even more memorable though were the Christmases I spent playing the guitar and singing to long suffering and captive audiences at a homeless shelter.

 

Santa's Coming to Town

 

You know the X Factor isn’t going to call you back, when everyone goes and sits out in the snow rather than listen to yet another do-gooder accompanying herself to a medley of Christmas Carols. Even my visitor stats seem sky high compared to the number of bums on seats then. I can’t be there this year, but find out how you can help www.crisis.org.uk/ as a volunteer or donor. If you know or see a rough sleeper, please remember them when it’s cold outside. And remember to buy your copy of The Big Issue too. You’ll be helping someone buy a hot meal or pay a bill, and it’s really one of the best magazines out there. Have a chat, smile, but please don’t just walk by.

Me and the Mummies wish you a peaceful and happy holiday with those you love. May your children wake up on Christmas morning with smiles on their faces and, just in case, tie some Bubble Wrap around the radiator pipe.

HAPPY CHRISTMAS and if I’m too knackered after shopping, wrapping and cooking to do another post this month, hope to see you next in 2017!

 

Santa's Coming to Town

 

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