23rd
Wrap up this Christmas
My first few months in the new job and Christmas reared its ugly head once again. €15 limit for Kris Kindle! I can do that, I reckoned, as I donated all but a single pint of my blood to muster the necessary funds. Having picked a recipient from a cupped hand which resembled a hat of sorts I was off, a bespeckled man on a mission. The day of reckoning came and I gave my present, happy in the knowledge that I had made the most of what now cost the equivalent of my duplex in the sticks.
Now, let me be clear, those that say that giving is receiving are full of shit, because giving is giving and receiving is, well, receiving, and my time had finally come to receive. Unwrapping my present with glee I felt like Charlie Bucket with a potential golden ticket in my hands. Starting from the top corner, I gently unwrapped my €15 of happiness. Oh, lettering, I thought, as I began to fret, really hoping that whatever it said would be spelt phonetically. ‘W’ - I’ll have a vowel please Carol - ‘I’… and a consonant - ‘L’. The gentle tearing continued until it dawned on me. I had in my hands what, in fact, my hands had acted as for much of my adolescence. Yes folks, my Willy Wonka dream had turned into a Willy Warmer reality!
Realisation made, I felt the room get hotter and hotter. How could they do this to me I wondered, as I tried to cover my “present”. It was too late, however. I was like a rabbit caught in the headlights. The instrument I found before my eyes was worryingly decorative, a veritable feast of knobbiness. This small piece of knitted naughtiness was mesmerising, with a bobbin at its head and 2 bells dangling from its undercarriage (the significance of this wasn’t lost on me either).
The bells, the bells! Far from being reminded of the Hunchback of Notre Dame, all I could think of was the conclusion of the most innocent of Christmas classics, “It’s a Wonderful Life”. As George Bailey holds his daughter in his arms, the bell on the Christmas rings out loud. “Every time the bell rings an angel gets their wings”, the daughter declared! Looking at my festive treat, the only significance I could attach to its bells ringing would be if someone was up to no good, Willy Warmer in situ. “That’s right”, I could hear George say in response. You’re a dirty bastard Georgie, but I like it. I like it!
