I FEEL a bit of a fraud. I’ve done most of my Christmas shopping in a week without leaving the house.
Thanks mostly to the corporate beast that is Amazon, and the patient combination of our parcel postman and the ladies at Semilong post office, the packages are stacking up for Father Christmas to deliver.
Although clichés abound about women loving shopping, I really can’t stand it. I’d rather be cleaning, and I can’t bear that either.
But in these days where small local traders are struggling with the likes of Tesco and Amazon, I can’t help but feel guilty. I did order presents for my parents ‘oop North from a family farm selling local foods. But did I invest in Northampton? Er, no. Sorry. I’ve only left the house to go to work or deliver children about the place.
Second big chunk of guilt comes from the bare truth that our house is still full of the plastic cast-offs of Christmas past. Stuff that I fully intend to either eBay to pay for this Christmas, or give away on Freecycle to off-set some of that ever-present guilt. But it sits in numerous baskets and boxes, waiting for me to find the time to get around to following-up my good intentions.
This week the rest of the family is officially ‘off’ while I’ve still got work, more shopping, wrapping and packing to do.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t dislike Christmas. It’s a joy when you have kids – even if you have given up on getting embarrassingly hammered. I just wish that week in the middle could be extended to a fortnight.