We’re buying a used car together. As a mutual Christmas present, no less.
To be honest, it took me a while to come around to the idea. It’s not that I’m scared of ditching my new bike (I have a crazy tendency to feel sorry for inanimate objects – I’ve put on several kilograms in the past eating an equal number of biscuits in the assorted cream packs just in case one variety felt neglected). The problem for me is I’m a little too into Christmas and practical gifts just don't cut the mustard.
I love opening presents on Christmas day. I love surprises and the thought that someone has taken a good five minutes out of their day to buy me a gift. A used car is both difficult to wrap and fit under the ol’ douglas fir. That said, there’s only so many lifts you can mooch from friends before you become antisocial.
To make up for our super-sensible, purely platonic present to each other I’ve overcompensated in the kitchen. The next few posts will have a certain Christmas flavour. I’m afraid it’s inescapable at this time of year. Particularly when you know the only surprise gift you’ll get from your nearest and dearest is fuzzy dice.
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