I awoke from my slumber as the fairy lights were slowly coming into focus – flickering and almost out of battery due to the fact I’d put them up in the middle of November in a rush of festive excitement. A week to go, and I had already opened all the windows in my advent calendar; chocolate wrappers now lay scattered on the thick, fluffy rug that my dog liked to lie on, his slightly matted head on his paws. Why couldn’t Christmas be all year round?
Wafting up to entice me from my room was the smell of freshly baked Christmas cookies – Mum baked them every year, and no one ever got tired of them. Passing the big Christmas tree, the smell of pine tickling my nose, I crept into the kitchen, looking longingly at all the presents. I stuffed a cookie in my mouth…not cautiously enough though, as it was still too hot.
“Really?” I jumped, not realising my mum had been in the room – I hoped she hadn’t seen me eat it, but the crumbs around my mouth were a tell-tale sign. She sighed and shook her head, while I grabbed another cookie and scampered back up to my room, hoping she wouldn’t remember later.
“Jingle bells, jingle bells…” I pressed play on my CD player (next to the shelf home to my full collection of Christmas music), brushing aside the glittery tinsel as I did so. Turning it up to full volume, I decided that maybe I shouldn’t have wrapped everyone’s presents in November: now there was nothing to do.
“FOR THE LAST TIME, TURN THAT RACKET DOWN!” I heard the yell of my dad, for the tenth time that week. Honestly, what was wrong with my family? They just needed to embrace the Christmas spirit – it wasn’t my fault that they complained when I coated the house in a thick glittery layer of lights and tinsel!
Sighing, I turned the music down. But with a small grin only a tiny bit. It was nearly Christmas after all.
A few days later Christmas Eve arrived, bringing with it more presents under the tree and a particularly ugly assortment of Christmas jumpers. A plea to lay the table for the big day was given as Mum rushed out the door; she made her way to Waitrose to try and get last minute deals on a turkey, and inevitably to purchase a mountain of mince pies and other sweet treats we would never be able to get through.
It was nearly here. It was at my fingertips. Just one more sleep…