Aoife Moore: Santa's little helpers Paschal and Michael accused of delivering the wrong presents

Public Expenditure Minister Michael McGrath and Finance Minister Paschal Donohoe arriving at Government Buildings to unveil Budget 2022. Picture: Julien Behal/PA Wire

One of the Leinster House canteen staff chipperly announced that Budget Day felt like Christmas this year as TDs and staff filed through.

Turkey and ham, the standard meal for Christmas and funerals felt appropriate as the whole family prepared for the big event.

The Dáil chamber, like chapel, filled up as the prayer started and we all got together – Government, opposition and press, like in-laws forced to spend the big day together.

The kids were appropriately penned in, James O'Connor surrounded by Sean Haughey on one side, Patrick O'Donovan on the other and Willie O'Dea behind him, lest he make a run for the opposition benches if the Finance Minister failed to mention Castlemartyr in his speech.

Due to Covid, seating was sparse, with some banished to the seats in the lobby of the chamber, like latecomers to Mass who panicked and threw themselves down in the first seat they saw.

One such Johnny Come Lately was Green junior Minister Joe O'Brien, who, feeling the heat of eyes upon him, took up a random seat and found himself next to Sinn Féin's Martin Browne and Pat Buckley.

Even further back, some TDs were kept in the visitors' gallery. One would only hope these representatives didn't get a complex about their future in politics as they were banished to the cheap seats with Neasa Hourigan and Patricia Ryan.

The leader and wannabe leader of Fine Gael, Leo Varadkar and Simon Harris, entered the room together and greeted the man who couldn't be led, Marc MacSharry, with a fistbump.

With that particular sign of peace over and after we said our prayers, literally it all kicked off.

The Ceann Comhairle, with a straight face that must've burst a vein in his temple, told the room the budget was not to be leaked before the ministers' speeches were concluded, to almost theatrical laughter.

Budget 2022 was so well-flagged it was like East Belfast in July, but we carried on the charade that we hadn't all already seen everything the parents had picked out of the Argos catalogue for us.

During the service, Paschal Donohoe and Michael McGrath, Leinster House's own Fathers Ted and Dougal, told us how good we'd all been all year.

We'd played by the Covid rules and we'd spent our savings when we were allowed out again, and now we'd be getting some treats for our best behaviour.

By the time Pearse Doherty stood up, we'd clearly reached the afterparty section of the evening and like your uncle who loves his party piece, he had all the old classics.

In his 13th year criticising the budget, he rattled off "workers and families", "Irish unity" and "voted for change". Like a medley of The Dubliners at an afters, you're singing along but you've heard it all before.

A mere two and a half hours in, lest we forgot they existed at all, a woman spoke.

Maireád Farrell took to her feet to wake most of us up and give the Government what for on vulture funds, data centres, no breaks for renters... on and on she went.

Sinn Féin's great white hope reminded us that a single person making €30,000 in hospitality will be €115 better off in this budget, while a single person earning €60,000 a year will be €415 richer and all the while, life continues to get more expensive.

The day continued in the same vein. Dougal and Ted fronted the media, told us all that small incremental changes are a good thing, actually, while the opposition raged that those in charge of the savings just didn't buy the right presents.

The thing about getting to see the Santa at the shopping centre is that when everyone gets a present, the presents are never that good.

Like all good family Christmases, we'll have forgotten the row by the morning, the hangover will rattle on for a day or two and we'll be back next year again for the pantomime.