Kiss me goodnight, Father Christmas

Kiss me goodnight, Father Christmas


The twelve days of Christmas

On the first day of Christmas
My true love said to me:
I’m leaving you.

So I cancelled the rest and flew to Spain to celebrate.

Only kidding. But as Christmas approaches, panic rises. And I alternate between being ‘down’ and hyper. I used to use alcohol to get through difficult times. I can’t do that now – what with all the medication and stuff.

When I was little, on Christmas Eve, my mother used to fill a pillowcase with all my presents – no wonder it was difficult to get to sleep.
You can see how tense I am becoming, making silly jokes like that.

I wonder if they will let me home for Christmas. I can imagine us all seated round the refectory table: The lesbian, Sydney and pregnant wotsname, the Swedish tart, my brother Hector (he usually turns up – with or without wife) and Cecil (the vicar) – we invite him because his wife goes home to her mother’s for Christmas. I never knew they celebrated Christmas in Bangladesh. Usually Inspector Wetherby drops in, and somebody has to run him home in the squad car.
In the evening we all go down the ‘Jolly Pervert’ for Christmas Quiz Night. It was on such an occasion that I first sampled Anthea’s dumplings – she puts a late supper on for all the regulars.

Actually Christmas in here is quite good: A neurosurgeon performs a frontal lobotomy on the turkey and everyone does a party piece. It could be my chance to get to know nurse Greta better!! Anyway, if I stay, I shall report on the proceedings.