Well, that’s that over for another year then.
The annual gifting of socks, unwanted jumpers and enough shower gel to fill a small pond has now passed.
I hope you all got what you wanted. If you didn’t, try to refrain from putting it on eBay just yet.
At least get a photo of you wearing it and smiling first.
I believe that’s the golden rule.
Give it a week or two and then sell it on.
Don’t start the bidding at 99p though.
That just adds insult to injury for the thoughtful person who originally bought it for you.
It’s all about minimising any offence caused.
If you’re reading this and haven’t made the rash decision to head out to today’s sales then congratulations on surviving the squabbles, depressing festive episodes of EastEnders, the seemingly endless washing up and the frantic dash for batteries for children’s toys to any shop displaying an ‘open’ sign.
Hopefully none of your family members have outstayed their welcome long enough for you to ask them to leave.
And just remember, it’s only 364 sleeps until we get to do it all over again.
Sorry, too soon?
Honestly, I promise I’m not a Scrooge really.
If you have remained at home today and are settling down to a Boxing Day fry-up, some bubble and squeak or the various other Christmas day leftovers, please spare a thought for me.
As you tuck into yesterday’s remains, I’m no doubt crouched in a corner somewhere, seriously considering how to raise enough money to move to a much bigger house.
Louie’s probably reviewing his new 30 or more presents, one of which is a rather large kitchen.
And I’m likely reviewing the places in which they can be stowed.
I know I’ve previously harped on about it, but I am rapidly running out of those handy storage places.
And with another mini-hoarder on the way in June, our home is already making a world-record attempt in the time it takes a house to transform from minimalist to cluttered.
Does anyone have a spare room I can use for the truck-loads of stuff we have in ours?
A downstairs toilet doubling as a makeshift cupboard will do. Let me know.
Anyway, there’s no Boxing Day football for me and my boy today, so I’m fully expecting our new chef to be serving me up a lot of imaginary tea and plastic veg from his new toy kitchen.
I’m off to do some pretend eating and drinking. I’ve had too much of the real stuff.