Or things I never learn over the Christmas period.
- It goes so fast. Christmas is over in almost the time it takes to say “Is a mini ironing board an acceptable present for Aged Parent?”
- I will always achieve less than ten percent of everything on my to do list.
- I will always underestimate (a) The amount of time it takes to be hospitable (b) How shattering being hospitable is.
- This does not mean that I don’t enjoy being hospitable.
- All talk of Christmas Lunch really just being a large Sunday Roast is nonsense. Despite trying manfully to pare the whole thing back I still end the day feeling something like I imagine the cook felt at the conclusion of one of Henry VIII’s most jolly weddings.
- New Year’s Eve could make Pollyanna depressed. Even the dog got upset (Fireworks give him bad nerves)
- If chocolate is in the house, I will find it and eat it – almost unconsciously. (Almost)
So bloodied but unbowed, we tick another Christmas off, having discovered, controversially, that a mini ironing board may not have gone down that well with the Kardashians but it makes an old lady with a bad back a very happy.