Macaroni Cheese on Christmas Day

“I have a dream”

I must thank Martin Luther King for a cracking opening line!

Ever since Christmas gained its cheap and tacky appeal I’ve had a dream; Macaroni Cheese on Christmas day as I veg out on darkly inspired DVDs to combat the cheerful smiling sop that pollutes the TVs rosy lens. Outside of Dr Who and an anti-festive offering from Film4 I’m not much in the way for caring. The ‘cheap and tacky appeal’ is the jaded adult perspective talking/moaning, such festive hits like ‘It’s all commercialised now’ with the classic ‘It costs so much nowadays’ and finishing the repartee ‘Turn the lights off, it’s carollers’ as you remind everyone that Santa was green before the Coca Cola adverts!

After the years of confetti filled atmospheres and questionable sung carols ringing in your ears, you see the Christmas magic lumber out of the red and green mist like a hulking beast, it is then it hits you, whilst your credit card throws itself off the nearest building; what the fuck am I doing this for? This is merely the first sign of Christmas fatigue, a distinct lack of excitement at the prospect of another festive summoning to the ‘staff bash’ heralds the second stage of this common ailment.

So what’s left of the magic, that wonderful hue of merriment to bring a childlike smile to even the grumpiest of bastards (even me!), has it… dare I say it… died? No (I’m not that jaded) as a rule the magic can never die. The aforementioned hulking beast that lumbered out of the mist, may have been banished but it never died. As another round of merriment and cheer rains down artillery grade, the Magic parachutes in heroically; mean lean and having just left eggnog rehab, it cast asides the neon lit clutter with reckless regard and saves the day, catching your credit card mid fall on the way .

You feel empowered; once a year awkward Christmas card exchanges can be done without, with no lingering guilt, X Y and Z in the office don’t need a crappy present to clutter their desk, because admit it, you don’t even know their names! ‘The Santa Hat Mob’ can barrage you with as many Bar Humbugs as they bloody well wish but that guilt train has well and truly left the station, you’re shedding the Christmas shackles and Mr ‘Get in the spirit of things’ can shove it.

In that moment, light bulbs are flashing solar flare bright, curtains open to grand applause and there it is in a Savel Row suit THE TRUE MEANING OF CHRISTMAS, standing proudly in all its triple distilled glory… The loyal co-worker that brings you coffee every morning, good friends from years back and of course family, they are the only ones worth giving a damn about, as small but meaningful exchanges are made and who needs a zillion dollar tie clip when all anyone ever needs are Amazon vouchers and chocs!

And as you clink glasses in cosy environments with friends and family, ridiculously large portions of the finest turkey slices and all the trimmings weighing you down like a cartoon anvil, I beg you think of the less fortunate and spare a few coins for the reputable charity collectors. I’m not talking about forking out the life savings for every Tiny Tim sob story you hear, but just a few coins worth of change, take the edge off the guilt when you can’t believe how damn deliciously tasty those turkey slices were!

As for this lone wolf author, as the title says I have but one wish; Macaroni Cheese on Christmas day!

And if you see a jolly looking guy in red, tell him he still owes a toy train and a round of drinks from last year’s staff bash and as for Cupid, there ain’t enough zeros on any number to equate to what that little **** owes me!

And to all a HAPPY CHRISTMAS AND A LESS CRAPPY NEW YEAR!!! Let’s make it an epic one guys!

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