The countdown to Christmas has officially started and prep for the big day is in full swing. For most of us we celebrate this merry time with mountains of food and drink, buying and wrapping prezzies, and turning the house into a full-blown Santa’s grotto ??
Through we may not want to admit it, we all go through different waves of emotions through this iconic time of year. From the highs to the lows, the emotional stages of Xmas are something we can all relate to. Brace yourselves…
It’s just a big waitin’ game. You are in full-on pre-Christmas mode, which means eagerness and anxiety. You can call it the calm before the storm where all you think about is how on Xmas day you’ll be covered in wrapping paper, alive with a sugar rush from all the sweet treats and let’s face it, napping by noon when the Queen’s speech is on.
It’s Christmas; it’s Christmas! You’re exhausted – no doubt due to the massive amount of Christmas movies and hot chocolate in which you overindulged the night before, but you’re up with the sun and ready to rally the fam downstairs to the tree. You’ve been waitin’ 364 days for this and now are experiencing THE Christmas high.
The moment you’ve all been waiting for. Yes. It’s dinner time. Roast. Dinner. Time. Silence falls around the table as everyone takes their first bite. Delicious, just as you expected. And then it snowballs. Another bite of this, abit more of that. Before you know it everyone sits, hands on stomachs complaining how they couldn’t possibly fit anymore in. Until someone pipes up that Christmas pudding is served.
Somehow, you’ve made it to the sofa. It’s time to reflect on the day over, you guessed it, a box of Celebrations. There is always room for a Malteser’s Teaser – if someone hasn’t picked them all out of the box beforehand. Your festive persona has begun to vanish and you realise it’s been three hours since you’ve moved. But you must… eat… one… more… mince… pie
It’s December 26. You’re not sure how it happened, but you’re still on the sofa, tucked in, with your blanket and a half-eaten mince pie in hand. The wrapping paper floods the living room floor and you can’t help but to feel that your festive identity has been robbed. Don’t worry, only 52 more weeks to go! That will fly by, right?