I remember writing somewhere (it was either my first or second novel) about the hilarity of celebrating the birth of a god who never existed by buying your uncle some socks. Now I stand by my words and refuse to acknowledge the whole Christmas thing, but times and situations change and this year I'll be taking part in my first Christmas in over a decade.
I'm telling myself that it's for the kids. Not so much Conner, he's smart enough to realise that Christmas is more about getting goodies than fictional babies in mangers. In fact he's already leaving windows open on my pc with stupidly expensive phones on display, not that his hinting will do any good, I'm broke. Me thinks the boy will be getting an orange in his stocking at this rate.
So yeah, I tell myself it's for the kids. Vinnie is going to be the big one this year, only being two this will be the first Christmas that he's aware of what's going on. He's already telling me that Father Christmas is going to bring him a "Big Bing Bang toy" (Bing Bang is what he calls Lazy town).
The biggest kid of them all though is Eva - who btw will be my wife in 5 days. I feel bad that I can't buy her all the things that I know she'd want for Christmas, but I'm hoping that I can gather together enough to make her smile on the day. Even if it's just a card that says "To my Wife" and pair of socks.