IN anticipation of not being burned to a crisp, pulverised by a meteorite or being judged and found wanting by a deity I’m left with the problem of Christmas cards.
There’s the age old issue of who gets one.
Then there’s the new issue of being bothered at all.
Then there’s the third issue of having to remortgage the house in order to post a few cards.
I’m fairly confident that I’ll get round to sending some.
My partner has already done hers – we’ve even had to fake the signature of our toddler on a few of them.
I haven’t bought any yet – and if I’ve any luck then I won’t have to.
Hopefully I’ll be able to scrape enough together at the bottom of the Christmas card barrel.
They’ll be the ones you get from the mad and hairy great aunt you’ve not seen for at least a decade.
A robin that looks like it needs corrective surgery. A reindeer which should be put down lest it escape and bite a small child.
A Christmas tree so bereft of charm and cheer that it should immediately be incinerated.
They’ll all be printed on what could be beige double-ply toilet paper too.
But who gets one? Frankly, who wants one?
The only issue to address now is the postage cost.
Is it bad form to attach a receipt to a Christmas card?
