Blimey, I hate Christmas! That probably sounds a bit odd coming from me, but every year it gets more and more of a pain, shopping wise. Always the same old thing; me and Frosty trudging around the shops trying to find something – anything – that’ll keep us in the good books of our respective ball and chains missus’s. He’s coming round in a while, and we’re going for a saunter round the precinct.
To be honest, it should be a doddle for Frosty, ‘cos he’s starting from scratch again every year. Get’s through women like most Snowmen get through hats – as soon as the wind changes he’s looking for a new one. I mean, that’s a piece of pudding, ennit, buying for a different lady every year? Whatever old tat you get them they’re gonna be chuffed with it just on principle. A bottle of smelly and some sexy underwear from La Senza and Bob’s your uncle and Fanny’s your aunt. But when you’ve been married as long as I have they’ve got different expectations. If I bought Mrs S some sexy underwear I’d be getting the third degree until Easter: “What, I’m not sexy enough for you now, then? What next – do you want me dressing up in a nurse’s uniform or squeezing into a leather teddy?”
Women, eh? Can’t live with ‘em, can’t shoot ‘em… I bought her some bath salts as a stocking filler last year and she asked if I was suggesting she stank!
You’d think it would be a doddle for me, wouldn’t you? Just grab something from the factory, get Tink or one of the elves to wrap it and I’d be away. But oh no. “It’s the thought that counts” she says, and by that she means that anything from the warehouse would be thoughtless. So I’ve been wracking my brains for the past six months and so far I’ve come up with nowt. I know she said she’d like one of them Halogen Oven thingies, ‘cos it gets a bit tight in the Aga over Christmas, but I can’t give her that as a present.
Frosty suggested some jewellery, but the trouble with that is I don’t know what I’m looking at. I mean, if I was a woman I’d rather have a zirconium than a diamond any day of the week. It shines just as bright, but you don’t have to worry about losing it or getting it nicked. But women have a different take on it, don’t they, no matter how much you explain to them that diamonds are common as muck, and the only reason they cost a bomb is because of those bloody De Beers. Okay, they’ve taken a bit of flak from the Monopolies commission over the past few years, but they’re still minting it. Diamonds are a girl’s best friend! Bah! Humbug! Oops – there goes the door bell. That’ll be Frosty…….
Right. That’s that done, then. Sorted. I went into WH Smith’s and they do these brilliant tokens for special days out and stuff. I’ve booked her a week at a luxury health spa in Tunbridge Wells. Reckon she’ll be right made up with that then, don’t you?