AT the risk of sounding like the Grinch, the Christmas decorations are finally down, and I am delighted to be rid of them.
Historically, I would have been melancholic saying goodbye to it all, but now, as a parent drowning in toys that Santy kindly bestowed upon us, I am in dire need of the floor space and so felt absolutely zero sadness as the final homemade Christmas decoration was stuffed into a storage box — not to be seen again until December 2026, unless, of course, we convert to another religion in the interim.
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