And so this was Christmas!

 

 

AND SO THIS WAS CHRISTMAS!

IT’S Boxing Day and for anyone still alive, it’s time to pick up the broken toys, turn off the telly, scrape the blancmange off the ceiling and reach for the Valium.

As you read this, you’re probably still in your nightclothes and you haven’t yet shaved, but you must have enjoyed Christmas because your head is still throbbing. 

Of course you could have done without three hyper-active kids waking you up at 2.30am hunting for Santa. Then there were those endless family rows over which TV programmes to watch and which films to video. 

It didn’t help when the turkey shrank to the size of the budgie and mum drank the cooking sherry meant for the trifle. And you DID warn your youngest not to eat so many chocolates from his or her selection box! 

The joy of Boxing Day is that we blokes can at last escape the chaos to go to the pub and the football (then back to the pub to celebrate or drown our sorrows, depending on the result), while the rest of the household tidies up and share a collective sigh of relief that the Big Day is finally over. 

But the problem this year (1992) is that you have to wait FOUR days to exchange your unwanted gifts (that ghastly tie from Aunt Ada, disgusting after-shave from the kids and the sexy lingerie you bought for the wife which she refused to wear). 

But at least you have a little extra time to fully recover from the excesses of the long weekend before going back to work to tell everyone who asks that you had a “quiet” Christmas with the family!

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DUCKING THE ISSUE

ONE local chap had a face as red as Santa’s after his first visit to a Cantonese restaurant - and his first taste of Peking Duck. 

After using the finger bowl following his messy starter, he mistook the paper-thin pancakes served with the dish for tissues, promptly dried his hands and tossed two of them into the ashtray! 

I’m told the look on his face when his dining companions began spooning their food onto the pancakes was a joy to behold...

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BOTTOM'S UP, SPORT!

IT WAS revealed this week that Aussie hunk Mel Gibson was paid 10 million dollars to show us what he has Down Under in his latest film Forever Young. 

Movie bosses reckon the expected glimpse of the Mad Max star’s bare backside will add £6m to the box office takings. That’s SOME cheek, if you ask me!

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(This column was originally published in the Northamptonshire Evening Telegraph on Saturday, 26 December, 1992)