Christmas is coming

In the spirit of all things Christmas, I took Charlie to meet Father Christmas yesterday. He was all gung-ho and then came over shy when we got there. However confidence was resumed at the suggestion of showing "The Man" his cars and they chatted about the merits of BMWs versus Minis while the obligatory photo was taken.  We were offered a somewhat overwhelming choice of photos on bookmarks, photos on keyrings, photos blown up to poster size and photos in a snow dome. An unashamedly commercial experience, just like they had back in Bethlehem. Father Christmas looks a little worse for wear in the photos, which lead me to believe he kept something stronger in his sack than the shopping-centre-branded antlers he extracted for Charlie.  I suppose if I had to ask 87 children each day what their name was and what they wanted for Christmas, I'd be on the sauce too.

Strange to be seeing Christmas decorations everywhere, mulling over present lists and trying to work out when is a suitably appropriate time for a Christmas tree - given the Yuletide excitement that has been provoked in Charlie - when the sun is blazing outside. Odder still to hear strains of "Jingle Bells" wafting through the air-conditioned shops and fake snow scenes in windows. We pass one house each day that has a host of decorations outside, making up for in quantity what it lacks in taste or charm. A rather sad and deflated-looking blow-up Santa, endless strands of wispy cotton wool and lots of brightly-coloured present boxes. Still, it guarantees excitement from Charlie every time we pass, so at least they are spreading the joy.