This pressure is made increasingly worse by the constant reminders that Christmas is just around the corner. Markets, shops, adverts and decorations all over the place means that everyone is talking about it. A lot. All the time. If in doubt bring up Christmas. I have had so many conversations about how excited we all are about Christmas I feel like ‘Elf’ himself. If at any point, one does not maintain this ridiculous overexcitement and enthusiasm about the upcoming event, you are instantly judged and accused of dampening the Christmas spirit. Scrooge and all that crap. Well ‘humbug’ off. I believe in Christmas I love it all. All the parties, tree, presents, dinner and unbelievable numbers of relatives. Yeh I am all about it. It is great. What I am not all about is jumping up and down, screaming, crying and skipping like a freak singing Cliff Richard renditions whilst wearing stupid tinsel in my clothes to express my overwhelming joy that at last Christmas is here.

Not only this but it appears that amongst my friends certainly, they all feel they have to share their Christmas day experiences with each other as some kind of planned activity where we all sit in a circle and take turns. Hi my name is Alex, and sometimes I open my presents before eating dinner. Questions, answers everyone shouting about whether we get up really early and run about the house at six in the morning? Do we have coloured or white fairy lights around out tree? Do they flash? Do we still put carrots out on the mantel piece even though we are all over the age of nine?

I get this to an extent. Tradition is never more important than at Christmas. Each family has their own way of doing things that makes Christmas what it is for them and I can understand that. But what if something goes wrong? What if one of the traditions is broken? Will the happy joyousness be ruined? I found myself in a conversation, this same evening, sitting down and listening to a recital of the ins and outs of my friend’s Christmas day. The way that it was explained to me, in great laborious detail I assure you, gave me the impression that if, in fact the day was not spent this year how it was spent last year then her entire Christmas would be ruined and she would probably have some kind of nervous breakdown. Well indeed.

The pressure to have a really great, happy all smiles round Christmas is unbelievable powerful. As I sat there and listened to my friend explain how after opening her pillowcase presents in her Mum and Dad’s bed at seven in the morning, she went downstairs and made bacon and eggs for everyone’s breakfast and simply adored the way the tree sparkled in the sunlight it struck me, that she probably would have a mental breakdown if Christmas didn’t go the way it had always gone.

In light of this I have constructed six happenings where Christmas day has gone slightly wrong. Mostly on Christmas day involving my nearest and dearest. Although one may find these stories amusing keep in mind that a lot of them happened to me and that you are laughing at my life you horrible heartless people.

1. A few Christmas’s ago my mother on returning to the oven expecting to find a cooked turkey, found a very uncooked and raw turkey. She had forgotten to put the oven on. Disaster times. This would have been ok and potentially slightly amusing if it were not Christmas and my diabetic Gran had not been round. She, being the sensitive creature she was started to panic about her low sugar levels and freaked out. Because she was freaking out my mum started freaking out and they both had a general freak out at each other in that way that Grans’ and mothers do. The problem was eventually solved with some port and oat cakes but neither really recovered until the next day and Christmas was decidedly ruined for them both.

2. My parents threw a Christmas party when me and my sister were very young. Unfortunately my father drank a little too much on this occasion and disappeared half way through the night. When his absence was realised a search began of the whole house and he was eventually found fast asleep on the toilet. A perfectly harmless and amusing story you might think. How foolish. To my sister the idea of Dad asleep on the loo naturally was hilarious and she felt a highly appropriate subject for her Christmas related art project. So in January she handed in a large painted picture of my Dad with a few sentences at the bottom explaining what she had drawn. The very Catholic art teacher did not, however find it as amusing as her. Apparently Christmas is not a time for such irresponsibility and carelessness.

3. My mother once set the curtains on fire with a Christmas candle. That wasn’t a great year.

4. The year after that we decided to have a Christmas pudding for the first time. My mother put the pudding into a bowl and put it into the oven. When it was cooked she turned the bowl upside down to get the pudding onto a plate. However, as she did this, she found she had melted the entire bottom of the bowl actually into the pudding. Stubborn as an ox and determined for us all to try the pudding for the first time she insisted on serving it. Aside from the large lumps of molten glass it was delicious.
5. My mate’s Dad once forgot to order the Turkey. Being slightly disorganised he not only forgot the turkey but forgot to reorder the turkey until Christmas eve. This issue was made especially worse by the fact they were staying in rural France. Left with his only option he drove to the local farmer as fast as he could and begged him for assistance. The farmer, maintaining incredible calm apparently simply went out into his field or pen or wherever it was he kept his turkeys shot one and gave it to my friends Dad. Unfortunately, upon his return, its rather feathery and ‘shot just a second ago’ appearance made it very difficult for him to avoid a certain number of questions from his wife.

6. My Auntie Pip- don’t challenge the name- a few years ago was enjoying a moment to herself late one Christmas eve. As a mother of young children these moments to herself are rare, so to ensure she made the most of it she was accompanied by a glass of wine or two. Sat down next to the tree in front of the telly what more could anyone want on Christmas eve? A few glasses into the evening she looked up to the top of the tree admiringly and noticed that the angel at the top seemed to be getting gradually closer and closer, almost… falling towards her. Momentarily, assuming she was just absolutely plastered and that she was seeing things, she turned away only to find seconds later that she was completely buried under the entire weight of the tree. Her young children upon hearing the loud crashing noise made the natural conclusion that Father Christmas had arrived. They came scrambling down the stairs only to find Mummy slightly shocked, holding a wine glass covered in fir tree, tinsel and surrounded by broken ball balls.

Looking back these stories do make my family sound like something from an episode of ‘Shameless’. We are all really nice people. Keeping these incidents in mind and regardless of my scepticism surrounding the emotional levels of the season I wish everyone a merry merry time. I implore you all not to have the perfect Christmas’s but try not to burn anything. Burning things isn’t cool.