Crikey pass the smelling salts, its December...

I was a little horrified to discover a few days ago that it is December already. Once the guilty pleasure of being the first in my family to get in the pinch and a punch for the first of the month (and no returns) had worn off I realized it was the last month of the year and all sorts of things were about to happen. For a start Santa will be on his way soon and I am ill prepared for his visit. None of my children have lists and I have done none of the usual Santa’s little helper preparations which I am signed up for like ALL the present buying for our household, all the food preparation and Christmas card witticismry and posting thereof. Soon everyone will be stopping whatever they are doing and closing up their offices and running away to pitch their tent in the place where it always rains over summer. And you can be sure they won’t have replied to any of my manuscript submissions before they go and I will have to add on several more years to the million years it already takes to hear back about a submission. The only possible response I can make to this is to consume frightening quantities of lollies, baked goods and alcoholic substances and then scare the children in the new bikini I bought after trying it on in the dark because lights and mirrors and bikinis should never be in the same room together. Then I will get cranky because I can’t sleep at nights because someone has switched my feet on to roast, the mosquito volume on high which Noise Control roll their eyes at whenever I call about it at 2am even though all noise should cease at 11pm and those sheets which felt like ice in winter are now doing a nice sandpaper imitation. Yes folks it is almost the summer holidays when you are on holiday but no one else should be, so they can read your ms, accept your return of the glow-in-the-dark apron without a receipt because no madam you are quite right that is not a hot Christmas gift which every wife is desperate to have, and open the picture theatre so you can cool your sun-burnt shoulders in the dark while watching the movie of the book which should never have been made. Why do December days pass twice as fast as the days of all other months apart from January where the days before businesses reopen pass twice as slow. And why are school holidays always a week too long? Must go – have Christmas shopping to do!