Ask Audrey has some special Christmas advice

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My husband Colin is giving me a mini-bag in Brown Thomas for Christmas, cost him well into the four figures. That will teach him to come home from his office party at 3pm the following day, missing a sock. Anyway, my son’s in-laws are here for pre-Christmas dinner and the poor things are from Glanmire. They have no idea that my present is worth more than their car. (I made them park it around the back.) Is it OK to ask Colin to bring the present out, ‘find’ the receipt in the bag and pretend to faint? — Clodagh, Blackrock Road, you won’t catch me drinking Aldi champagne.

Look at the receipt? What do you think this is? 2007? Just look it up on-line at the dinner table and shriek, “Oh Colin, you shouldn’t have.” I wouldn’t faint if I were you. My guess is that your guests are just looking for an excuse to leave.

We are at our daughter’s boyfriend’s place in Blackrock. His mother, Clodagh, came running out when we arrived, shouting something about our Renault Scenic. The husband, Colin, seems sleazier than a Kilmallock man in a Ford Capri. They both keep talking about this tiny purse he got her for Christmas. Please help me get out of this. — Lorraine, Glanmire.

Don’t tell me you are in a rush back to Glanmire. Stay put and ask her how much the purse cost. Say that it must have been shop-soiled when you hear the price. The Blackrock Road crowd hate people thinking that they like a bargain. Then ask Clodagh if she got Colin a pair of socks for Christmas, because you heard he lost one in the house belonging to the new Spanish one in marketing who makes Penelope Cruz look like Chris Evans. Trust me. It will be like EastEnders, but with proper cursing.

Hey man. I’m here in Farranree, visiting my girlfriend’s parents for the week. I fancy bringing her old man out for one of your pints tomorrow. Where’s a good place to find a pub around here on Christmas Day? — Lenny, Los Angeles, I am so cool that I have two beards.

I’d recommend Wales. They have comical accents, but you’d be used to that having spent time in Farranree. Sorry to be the one to tell you, but the pubs are closed here for the day. You could always try and blag your way into a rugby club. Just call the fella on the door ‘old stock’ and say “Were you two years behind me in Christians?” That’s a school in town for people who can’t afford to send their sons to Clongowes. Above all else, make sure that your girlfriend’s dad doesn’t talk. The rugby crowd will probably think that he’s come to fix the heating.

How’re oo goin on? My daughter just let slip that she bought me one of these smart watches for Christmas. Sure it will just be banging on all day, giving me instructions on how to improve myself. Chrishte Jaysus, but I’ve enough of that from the missus. Do you know anyone who would like to buy it? — Dick Dan Mickey Mary, head south from Durrus until it’s hard to tell the women from the men.

I know someone who might be interested in a swap. Me. I happen to know that my Conor bought me a set of bell bars and a three-pack of edible knickers. He has a PhD in Wrecking Christmas with Stupid Presents. (They’d let you study anything up in UCC) You’ll have to come up here for the swap. I couldn’t possibly go to West Cork. The smell of pig slurry makes me want to cry. Particularly when it’s off a living person. Let me know when you’re coming up. Bring a sandwich in case you get hungry. I’d hate to imagine you tucking into my edible knickers on the outskirts of Dunmanway.

Bit of vom’ in my mouth there just thinking about it.

Ho Ho Ho. I’m just getting ready for my trip around the world to all the boys and girls. I couldn’t help noticing last year that the houses in Cork put out a sweet orangey looking drink and something that looks like beef but tastes like cloves. What was that about? — Santa, the North Pole, but that doesn’t make me a norrie

You were given Tanora and Spiced Beef. These are traditional Cork foods we force on visitors to show that we’re better than Dublin. Which isn’t hard really, given the best the Dubs can come up with is coddle. That’s a stew for people who hate food. I wouldn’t feed it to my reindeer. You’re lucky Cork people don’t try and pawn you off with tripe and drisheen. The last thing we need is another Santa wandering the streets with a fit of the gawks. We’ve had enough of that with people coming home from Christmas parties.

Tanora and Spiced Beef are traditional Cork food we force on visitors to show that we’re better than Dublin. Which isn’t hard really, given that the best the Dubs can come up with is coddle