I lied to my family and spent Christmas Day alone

I had a steak – with chips, no sprouts – and a nice bottle of rioja. I went for a walk. There were no arguments about what to watch on TV. Best Christmas everI haven’t always hated Christmas; I think I enjoyed it as a kid. Not so much since. It is a little about the food (if turkey and sprouts are such good news, why don’t we eat them on any other day, eh?). It has a little more to do with rampant consumerism. Gluttony, greed, sloth, envy, wrath … funny how a festival that is supposed to be about the birth of Christ has come to encompass so many Christian sins. But this isn’t about him; it’s about me, my own family and my own insecurities.I think things turned sour in my 30s, when my siblings selfishly started having families of their own. Suddenly there were new people and generations involved; it became more complicated logistically, as what had been a simple family gathering exploded. This lot went here, that lot there … oh, God, what about Sam? Where’s he going to go? Whose turn is it? I wasn’t involved in these conversations, but I’m sure they happened. They did in my mind, anyway. I had become the grumpy grandad no one wanted, before even being a dad. Continue reading…
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