Christmas Morning Rituals


All clothes, courtesy of Fatface

I always spend Christmas morning the same way, every single year. The rituals that I wake up and perform, almost innately, instinctively, have been with me for as long as I can remember. Even though I've spent Christmas in lots of different places, some things always remain the same, and I can't imagine it ever being any different.

I get up very early - and I mean early. So early that it used to reduce my poor mother to tears. She tells me that one year I woke up so early that she had only been resting in bed for 30 seconds, having just finished wrapping all our presents and putting them under the tree, when I ran in declaring that Father Christmas had been, and that I could see lumps in my stocking. Because of this enthusiasm we made a tradition that I would go to my brother's room first, and we could open our stockings together as early as we liked. Because my brother and I share an apartment now, we still do this, and I sit at the foot of his bed like I did when I was four. When we're married we'll probably still do the same thing, and our unfortunate spouses will just have to remember to wear pyjamas.


I stay in my pyjamas all day. I've tried to get dressed up in "Christmas outfits" a few times, but it never lasts long. I always eat a chocolate breakfast and chocolate breakfasts do not mix with rose-gold sequin skirts or velvet dresses. I usually put some make-up on so that I look quasi-human in any photos, and then we gather together wherever my mother is, and open all our presents. I'll try and give her more than 30 seconds sleep this year, but I can't promise.

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