So here it is, Merry Christmas everybody’s having fun.

That is probably the most disingenuous line ever written in song.

When Slade released ‘Merry Xmas Everybody’ in 1973 I imagine they thought it was just a pleasant ditty to bop along to as well as making them a few bob in the meantime.

But over the years the song has taken on a life of its own and is now a festive juggernaut that signifies both that it’s time you should be buying gifts as it is played incessantly in shops up and down the land and also that because it’s Christmas you should somehow be happier than it being February 6 or August 14, for example.

But I sound churlish don’t I? Maybe I should lighten up and just enjoy the season of it being acceptable to wear tinsel, consume your own weight in biscuits or be faced with a day with in-laws who you only see once a year – for a good reason.

With that in mind, I’ve come up with my own festive feast – five things that mean it is Christmas.

1) The terrified faces of Christmas Eve shoppers

Spare a thought for the poor souls today caught in the nightmarish scenario of not having a Christmas present for their nearest and possibly dearest.

The haunted looks displayed by these unfortunate ones are akin to Edward Munch’s The Scream – albeit with eyes cast in the direction of The Perfume Shop.

As all lazy shoppers (and I include myself in that number) know, then when all else fails perfume or aftershave is the fall back position of Christmas gifts.

It says “I tried and I failed – but here’s the receipt.”

There is nothing like a perfume counter on Christmas Eve. This sounds sexist but in my experience it is men who populate the white-tiled floors of Boots, prostrating themselves on the tender mercies of those ladies in white jackets who at this time of year become the equivalent of brain surgeons – but for smells.

The query is thus: “I want something that isn’t the cheapest but also not the most expensive liquid and I also want it to smell nice, but I really don’t know what my partner/girlfriend/mum thinks is a nice smell. Can you help?”

2) The shopper in the supermarket who says ‘All this for one day’

There is an unspoken rule at Christmas that says it’s all a big waste of time.

We know it, the shops know it but yet we’re locked into a titanic battle of ‘How much stuff can you get in your trolley?”

Having worked on a supermarket till at Christmas I know the pain that the staff feel.

They have the same conversation about 20 times a day – which is along the lines of the line above.

Staff have to laugh and then roll their eyes to signify “yes, I agree with you. But frankly, I’ll be glad when today’s over.”

In my experience, what Christmas actually meant for supermarket till workers was a hell of a workout.

Imagine lifting turkeys, hams, sacks of potatoes et all for eight hours.

When I went home on Christmas Eve I couldn’t get my arms above my head they were that sore and on Boxing Day I had rippling upper body muscles. And so did the ladies who worked on the tills alongside.

3) The same shopper who complains about Christmas but is hunting the missing piece of Christmas dinner

Until someone has a breakdown over a lack of fresh gravy in front of you it’s hard to say that you’ve experienced the full range of emotions that life can offer.

Whether it be the hunt for the final bag of sprouts or two fully grown adults having a stand-off over a three-bird roast (which is a thing these days) Christmas truly is a time that bring us together.

What would seem entirely unreasonable for 51 weeks a year is suddenly somehow acceptable in the Mad Max-style environment of the supermarket in the days before Christmas.

4) The dread of spending time with family

Maybe dread is the wrong word but nervousness should apply.

We love our families and they are, in the broadest sense, nice people.

They are members of society who we should aspire to emulate in most traits of their personality – generous, humorous, caring etc.

But why does Uncle Cyril blow his nose so noisily?

Why does Aunt Samantha clear her throat so regularly with a noise that cuts you to the bone?

Why does your brother/sister have to be such a show off.

Why does your mum/dad/granny/any family member have to embarrass you with tales of that naked incident in your childhood.

Who, while relaxing after the meal, released gas, extreme in both volume and viciousness, that forces all to look at each other suspiciously while gently wafting their hand in front of their nose?

Have the hands of the clock ever moved more slowly?

5) The Boxing Day de-brief

The guest have left, the washing up has been done and gift receipts located.

You slump in your armchair with a look of sheer joy.

Turning to your husband/wife/mum/dad you exhale a sigh of the tortured.

You may not have been extraordinarily rendered and tortured but the feeling of your ‘freedom’ at this time is one of sheer elation.

It’s a full 364 days before you have to do it all again. Next year will be different, you vow. Present buying will be done throughout the year.

Food shopping will be both less expensive and done in a more orderly fashion.

You’re going to have a quiet Christmas next time – it’s going to be simpler.

And yet, by next Christmas Eve there’s every danger you will find yourself in tears begging at the perfume counter.