Grumpy people who hate Christmas.

 They are all around, just waiting for an opportune moment to complain about the latest thing. Gordon Brown, The X Factor, immigrants, spotty faced teenagers and at this time of year: Christmas.
Christmas is a time that should bring joy to all. The shops and streets are daubed in twinkly lights and christmas trees, but the grumpy people among us get fed up with the constant carol singing, chocolate giving local churches who insist on inviting you to the millions of services they feel it is acceptable to hold at this time of year.
Christmas, for me, makes me want to implode with glee. You get a chocolate every day without having to traipse to the newsagents and you get to over-play the same songs that endlessly stick in your head- with the aid of that drug that damn Lady GaGa puts in hers- all through December (although I tend to start slightly earlier: October anyone?). And Christmas dinner, oh Christmas dinner. A plump Turkey that your mother has stuffed with chestnuts and sausage meat in a very indecent fashion (rather her than me). Little sausages wrapped in bacon that the elder generation insist on calling 'pigs in blankets'- I really wish they wouldn't. Roast potatoes and parsnips, I am copiously salivating at the thought, I must desist. Oh and the sprouts, the vegetable that tastes most like fart, but is necessary to endure at Christmas time.
However, these wonderful little perks of the month of December seem to get the grumpier of us in a bit of a tizz. It seems to give them an extra special opportunity to moan and groan with the added benefit that the rest of us are thoroughly enjoying ourselves.

At the end of September when you get your first leaflet through the door adorned with a christmas tree or a sprig of holly in the corner you can tell those who are going to be revelling in the horror of Christmas or those who at the age of 35 will still be spending Christmas Eve unable to sleep.
I am one of the latter. The first Christmas advert I saw this year caused me to jump up from the sofa and cry, 'CHRISTMAS IS HERE' at the top of my voice to the great surprise of my mother and father who had just exclaimed 'ITS ONLY BLOODY AUGUST!'.


As Christmas creeps up, closer and closer, these Christmas grumps are in their element. They can grumble about the cold, but the fact that 'Eoghan Quigg will make it in the US before we get a white christmas in this country!'. The price of all the presents they are forced to buy for people they don't even like and the shops trying to trick us out of our money with their cheesey adverts. And, of course, how our Christmas is never going to be as perfect as the one on the Marks and Spencer's advert so we might as well give up now.

I say, have some babies and then you'll be forced to don the Santa suit and sing carols around the fire YOU SCROOGE!