December is synonymous with booze: mulled wine and carols, cocktails with friends. On Christmas morning, there’s buck’s fizz to herald a whole 24 hours – or not, depending on which point of the day you fall asleep on the sofa – of solid eating and drinking. Then you get up the next day and do it all again with whatever’s left in the fridge and the drinks cabinet, occasionally dragging yourself to visit nearby relatives, where you will probably once again be plied with booze. Ho, ho, ho, etc.
If the thought of this fills you with festive cheer, glug on. But if you’re dreading the tidal wave of yuletide drinking – or have already allowed yourself to be swept away and are now concerned about how you’ll carry on – allow me to let you in on a secret: you don’t need to do any of it. You don’t have to drink.
