I was born on Christmas Day, so every year, even at 30, I get the same old Jesus jokes and the same old questions. “It’s a bit rubbish, isn’t it? Do you get double presents?” Our family Christmases have always been pretty by the book: dinner, presents, a board game, arguments about who’s really winning said board game. But although I love them, I’ve decided that after three decades on this planet, it’s time to try something a little bit different on 25 December.
So instead of heading back to Birmingham this year, I’m going to hang tight in London for my first Friendsmas. I rent with one of my best mates, and we’ll be hosting around half a dozen for Christmas dinner. The WhatsApp chat (which is called “Friendsmas 2023” – groundbreaking) is very much up and running (and slowly taking over my life), so the “doers” of the group can plan all the food and drink, who’s buying what and where we’ll go for that pre-dinner walk. We’re all pretty determined, you see, that it’ll be an extremely wholesome day. One of my friends has moved back to Galway, in the west of Ireland, but he’s making a flying visit because he can’t cope with the Fomo. And there are a few people who have family based in London, so they’ll sneak off and join us later in the day, too.
