Bah Humbug – Part 10

Reposting this and other entries from this 2009 series

Day 10 – Kids

Yes, I know I was one once. But when I was a kid, you sat in the corner, kept quiet and got made a fuss of by that strange smelly Auntie that sat in the corner getting slowly pissed on port.

These days, I’m told “Christmas is for the Children”.

I’ve got news.


Its for everyone. Why do children always get preferential treatment?

When I was a kid, I’d be happy with a hoop, a stick and a sock full of satsumas. These days it’s Wii this, Playstation that, I want this, I want that, Gimme gimme gimme. Whinge whinge whinge. Ungrateful little shits.

They have no experience or love of the TV guide hunt. They’ve never even been sent to bed at 8pm and told if they wake up before 9am their presents will turn to dust. Spoilt they are.

They don’t even have to suffer a thousand pensioners groping their tussled curls and being told they would have girls queuing up round the corner for them. It’s like the Christmas they experience is a pastiche of the Christmases they should experience. Worse still, is when they eat all the sweets and chocolates and end up running round like excitable little wasps for three hours.

My niece, Charlotte, bless her, was the centre of attention at my mum and dad’s house at Christmas until recently. She got to open her presents first. She always seemed to get more presents than me too. She didn’t have to suffer the annual relation safari until Boxing day. She has no experience of the smelly odd looking aunt in the corner either. Instead, her Christmas day is one of presents, presents, food, presents and more presents.

Jealous? Me? No…but, as you will see on the 17th day, I have my reasons…..

Author: stegzy

Once, long ago, I wrote frequently on Livejournal. I then moved to Blogspot, where I discovered that blogging requires an audience. So I moved back to LJ. Then over to Dreamwidth, back to LJ, up the road of self hosting with Muckybadger before giving up entirely and moving over to Wordpress. It was at that moment I decided I would spread my compostual nonsense simultaneously across the blogosphere like some rancid margarine. And so here I am. I am a badger. But then I'm not really a badger. I am a human. With badger like tendencies. I am a writer, a film producer and a social commentator. I am available for Breakfast TV shows, documentaries and chats in the pub with journalists where I am more than qualified enough to talk confidently about absolute shite and bollocks.

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