• Adam Anderson

A Christmas To Remember?

Updated: Dec 28, 2020

Christmas Drinks - (Elise Petrovich, Unsplash)

So, as we all know, this year’s been a weird one…

It’s been a while since I’ve wrote anything for you guys, but honestly, I doubt you’ve even noticed. We’re all going through shit. We’ve all got our own problems.

At least Christmas…. sort of happened?

Perhaps not in the way we’re all used to, but still.

I for one usually spend Christmas absolutely sozzled - going from pub to pub in my small country hometown as the establishments stagger their allotted 2 hour opening times.

It starts with a glass of champagne as soon as I wake up, lovingly poured by my mother, and then a few more glasses of Bucks Fizz while we open presents, then more while we have breakfast.

My parents then tend to go to Church, whilst I drink more in my pyjamas.

By the time they’re finished, I’ll just be going out to the first pub – ugly Christmas jumper adorned.

It’s there that me and my chap(s) down a few pints and have a brandy. Then we move on.

More pints.

A brandy.

Then move on.

More pi-

Okay, you get the idea…

What then tends to happen, is we meet my parents in the last pub, and all have Chrimbo drinky-poos as a rag-tag family. By the time me and my pals say goodbye, I’m absolutely wrecked. I’ll return to my parents’ house, where I’ll be swaying at the dinner table, with (of course) another glass of champagne or wine.

After soaking up some of the booze with a perfectly cooked turkey and roasties, it’s onto Christmas pud - soaked in brandy, lit on fire, and enjoyed with more wine.

We’ll then move onto the spirits.

It’s an unofficial (unplanned) tradition that one member of our family ends up being gifted a bottle of something – whether it’s whiskey, rum, or rocket fuel.

Now, obviously, we need to taste test it, just to make sure it’s not gone bad or anything – you know?

Then, once we’re all back up to the level of ‘fucking wankered’, it’s onto the port.

After this, I’ll wake up on boxing day, on top of my bed, still fully clothed…

Now for obvious reasons I quite enjoy this routine. It’s a nice way to spend the day after working hard for 52 weeks straight.

But this year there was no such decadence.

Yes, I still had a drink, but there was the looming presence of lockdown. There was no catching up with old friends. No Church for my family.

No last minute ‘oh, we can squeeze one more drink in!

For the first time in years, I didn’t raise a glass of brandy in some shitty country pub where everyone else, even on Christmas, looks miserable.

It sounds like I’m moaning, but honestly, I’m not.

Just because this year was different, didn’t mean it was bad.

It’s like going somewhere new on holiday.

Maybe you’ve gone to the same resort since you were little, visiting the same beaches and restaurants, and one day think to yourself, you know what, maybe I should go somewhere different this year?

It’ll be different. But most importantly it’ll still be fun.

And who knows, maybe new traditions were born for you? Maybe you won’t want to go completely back to the old routine?

Because let’s be honest, whatever your background or upbringing or beliefs, we all know Christmas isn’t about the pubs anyway…


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