My mum got us chocolate advent calendars, because we’re basically children when it comes to Christmas. Curiously, of the three advent calendars – the two chocolate ones and the Lego Star Wars one, it’s never the chocolate ones that we forget to open.
Anyway, Carole has a Galaxy one because she’s sophisticated and that. She gets to enjoy a fun-sized ripple on Christmas Eve – as well as whatever it is that’s behind door 24. I have a common-or-garden Dairy Milk calendar with no fun-size anythings behind any of the doors.
What mine does do, though, is slowly pick at your spirit somewhat.
“How?” you may be asking. Well, I shall tell you.
Behind each door is a phrase of some description – sometimes it’s a statement, sometimes it’s a question. But I can’t help thinking that the questions, while well meaning, are just out there to destroy your self-esteem before the big day.
For example, “Can You Draw Santa’s Sleigh?”
No. No I cannot. That doesn’t make me any less of a person. But thanks for making me feel inferior, advent calendar. If you weren’t going to throw other questions like this at me I’d comfort eat my way through the rest of the month, but I think I need each day’s chocolate to make me feel better about myself.
“Have You Written To Santa?”
No, no I haven’t. Don’t judge me. Don’t make me think that I should have done. Don’t tell me what I should be doing…
“Can You Do A Christmas Dance?”
No. No I cannot. I can’t do a non-Christmas dance, let along a festive one. Anyway, are there actually any specifically Christmas dances? Or would it just be a normal dance to a Christmas song? You’re very vague with these demands you’re throwing at me.
I’m just going to open each door in the dark now, so I don’t know what it’s asking of me. That way I won’t feel that I am letting Christmas down in some way by not being able to jump through the hoops this inanimate calendar wants me to.
Also, today’s chocolate was a monkey.
So I’ll ask you a question, Mr Calendar… what the fudge has that got to do with Christmas??