Father Christmas? For a moment there he almost had me. He’s
so totally believable, of course you have to want to believe and what small
child doesn’t want to believe in a friendly old man who brings you presents?
Ho, ho, ho and all that. I think the clue is in the name though: ‘Father’
Christmas. Even so, it still took me quite a while, years and years, to work it all out.
I don’t know when I completely stopped believing that the
man who left my Christmas presents wasn’t a fat, jolly, white-bearded man in a
reindeer sleigh, but was instead a bad tempered control freak who would really
rather not have bothered. Of course the clues were there again for me to see –
a reel-to-reel tape recorder when my three or four year old self would have
rather liked a toy Teddy. Surely Father Christmas knew I desperately wanted a
yellow Teddy Bear with a black button nose?
Most children have a favourite toy; something that they grow
up with and cherish for ever. Often it’s something brought to them one magical
Christmas Eve by that most magical of beings in his bright red suit, a teddy or
a stuffed giraffe, a knitted kitten, maybe even a tiger, a special something
never to be forgotten. I don’t remember having a toy like that; I hardly
remember any of my childhood toys at all. Perhaps it’s me, but I don’t think it
is. For a moment though, he almost had me.
Father Christmas? You know, I think that mine didn’t do his
job properly, not properly at all. Ho, ho, fucking ho.
Sharon Taylor on FB
ReplyDeleteAndrew Height, I don't remember much from my childhood Christmases either in terms of presents, I guess that means that they weren't that important, material things very rarely mean that much to me even now and personally I think that is a good thing.
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DeleteAndrew Height
DeleteI remember too much I think. That teddy would have meant such a difference, an island to cling to, proof that Christmas and its spirit actually existed. Since then I work hard at Christmas, my own personal father Christmas however continues to do his best to fuck it up. Well, I can hear the chains he has coming to him a rattling and I won't let him win. X
Lindsey Messenger on FB
ReplyDeleteI remember waking up to a pillow case full of presents at the end of the bed. I remember my Tressy doll, you turned a key in the middle of her back and her hair grew, from a hole in the middle of her head. Also one year I had a tiny tears doll, that you fed water and she would wet!! Plus ever year we had an Annual, a Bunty or when I got older Jackie. Lovely happy memories xx
Andrew Height
DeleteYour dad bought me a watch one Christmas. It meant the world to me Lindsey. I wore it until it wore out. I remember the doll's house he made for you girls and years later made one for my own children as a result. There is good and bad in the world, and your house seemed to be filled with good.
Andrew Height
DeletePS - I use to love being passed on your old Bunty and School Friends comics. I knew they were for girls but they were such great stories.
Lindsey Messenger
ReplyDeleteAww yes it was. I remember the dolls house it was amazing .
Andrew Height
DeleteElectric lights and everything.
Tim Preston I don't like Christmas - you may have guessed
ReplyDeleteAndrew Height
DeleteI know Tim and nor should I, but the fighter in me (that desperate scared little boy I was) each year tries to make it the best one ever. Who knows? One day I may even succeed
Tim Preston
DeleteAh - i think I now might understand that maybe you are creating your own Christmas looking at the arts and crafts side of it rather than the big glitzy megastore side of it?
Andrew Height
DeleteIt really is a homely thing. I hate all the shit, even though it is hard to not get caught up in it. In terms of craft, my customers send me such lovely texts on Christmas day about my silly glass painting that it truly does make my Christmas special. Sometimes I even think that it is as close as you can come to actually being Father Christmas.