Jingle Bells

Over recent weeks I've seen an increase in emails from my mother arriving to my inbox - they deal with various issues but one running theme is a request for information regarding what M and I want for Christmas. I usually respond with a half-baked answer, attempting to give some kind of direction without giving away that I really have no idea and can't help her on this.

So, Christmas is coming. Everyone has an opinion on it, and I'm no exception. Whereas most people militantly hate or love Christmas though, I'm somewhere in the middle. I'm really not bothered about it at all. The only reason I ever liked it as a kid was the presents - once they were out of the way the day lost its gloss completely, especially if the presents sucked. I have no religious or spiritual reason to celebrate Christmas. The presents are still cool though, and it's one of the few times the family gets together (especially with mine being pretty far flung - my parents in France, my sister in Belgium and me up here). That, however, is potentially explosive and tends to give Christmas get-togethers a slightly predictable tune.

Everyone turns up to my parents house with a role to play and, I would imagine, this is the same all over. Mothers who haven't seen their kids for a while will be overjoyed to see them and will attempt to impose an "everyone must be happy at this happy time" regime which, while it is commendable, is usually in vain because an argument will break out at some point. When she sees that her quest has failed (yet again) she will become disappointed and withdrawn.

Sisters, on the other hand, will come to the Christmas gathering with the aim of imposing their will on all present. This stamping of authority extends to all Christmas-specific issues - the size of the tree to be purchased, the decoration of said tree, the order in which presents are to be dished out, the amount of, and regularity with which, doting love must be lavished on the dog, the amount of attention they should get. With a total of 7 people and 2 dogs this Christmas, that will involve a lot more dictatorial behaviour. Given that I am enthusiastic neither about Christmas trees nor dogs, nor indeed following orders on such trivial matters as how presents should be handed out, I usually lose patience and tell her to leave everyone alone to do as they wish. This prompts an explosion of rage and lamentations full of self-pity about why she bothers trying to make this fun in the first place. Mothers (who have seen this argument and reacted negatively as described above) and sisters (who are seething with anger and need to stamp authority on someone having failed to do so with their brothers) then have a blazing argument with each other. Fathers then step in to calm things down and usually make it worse. As a result, he starts to read his newspaper while everyone else sits around being quiet.

As the day wears on, everyone will lighten up, food will be cooked and chatter will swirl around once more. This Christmas peace will last until after the dinner when someone will invariably suggest playing a game. Here, the old rivalries rear their heads again. In my family the tradition game has been Trivial Pursuit - teams can get together, have a laugh, everyone has fun. Apart from the sister of the family, that is, for she despises (or at least pretends to despise) Trivial Pursuit. Having studied politics for many years I can see her approach tactics quite well. The dictator wishes to impose his dictates on the population but, of course, cannot do it alone. Therefore, the dictator backs him/herself up with military force. Given the lack of a frightening figure in the family, the dictator must revert to some kind of non-ruling moral authority. This is Mamie - our grandmother. The dictator's choice of game will be rejected by the population (mother and brother) while the moral authority will be cajoled into giving her blessing. The international community (father) then falls asleep. This is when the mother and the brother end up playing Trivial Pursuit anyway, the sister storms off in another fit of rage, boyfriends and girlfriends sit looking slightly awkward, and the curtain comes down on yet another family Christmas.

I'm usually an optimist of sorts but when it comes to Christmas, things are far too inevitable to have any illusions about what's going to happen next month. This is why Christmas is something I'm not particularly bothered about.