The ‘Lockdown Christmas Horror’ thing confuses me somewhat. When I was a 60s child, aside from the Big Day and Presents, Christmas was a very very quiet time. There was no massive hysteria about buying shit, most decorations were home made or

bought once and saved to use every year. The dinner was basically an extra special Sunday dinner and there weren’t Prosecco Prawn And Acai Mini Quiches and Individual Yak Bollock Ganache Tarlettes With Edible Glitter from Tesco or the idea that

being vilely pissed and coked off your head for the entirety of December and half of January was a fitting tribute to ‘fam values’ and the religious festival in question. It was all pretty boring really after the Day. You could hope for snow and

the opportunity, in my case, of attempting to sled with the incredibly heavy wooden sled my father made for me that was so sturdy it took a team of oxen to drag it up the slight incline by the cricket pitch and immediately sank into the snow

and had to be manhandled to the bottom. When I was older and a Punk/Goth we were dirt poor and Yule was all home made and the dinner was Spaghetti in Tomato Sauce but we were incredibly happy and creative so who gave a shit?

So yes, it will be upsetting for families to be apart but then presumably there won’t be any of those articles by clever-clever journalists about the Horrors Of Family Christmas, all that cooking for ungrateful old non-Vegan Grandparents! The hideous gifts!

The Xmas Day family row! The awful hangovers of Boxing Day! Speaking as a person with no blood family at all, maybe people will actually understand and value their families. Maybe they won’t row and bitch over Zoom. Maybe they’ll treasure that grim cardi

Nana knitted for them throughout the quarantine from pure acrylic in a lovely shade of taupe.

And maybe they’ll stop being so fucking selfish and won’t want to give Nana and Grandad a lingering hideous death from COVID-19 in return.