1) Standing in the crowds at Liverpool Street Station, surrounded by all the other Londoners going home to spawn for Christmas, all dressed in woolly hats and lumpy jumpers in an attempt to blend in with the locals, waddling along the platform with suitcases and rucksacks bulging with enough presents to keep an orphanage very happy.
2) Attending the 'Pantomime' Carol Service broadcast live on BBC Radio Norwich, complete with pantomime cow processing down the aisle behind the choristers and pantomime dame reading from the gospel according to Joyce Grenfell, all to be able to tell my niece how very beautifully she sang, even on the third repeat of the tape my dad kindly recorded off the radio.
3) Playing Ker-Plunk, Cluedo and Connect 4, because that's what you do at Christmas, at least while the Playstation isn't on.
4) Watching The Snowman walking in the air, twice, and noticing the complete lack of understanding on the face of a three year old on being told that you remember watching it for the very first time twenty years ago.
5) Being thrashed dismally in a Harry Potter quiz by an eight year-old.
6) Eating enough turkey, pudding, cake, roast potatoes, peanuts, chocolate oranges and little sausages wrapped with bacon to feed a small African country, so that you end up feeling as force-fed as the turkey no doubt was.
7) Watching all the old camcorder tapes of nephews and nieces opening their presents at Christmasses past, mainly so that the grandparents can coo over how much they've changed, but also so that the eight-year-old can discover that his 'Oh please turn that off' embarrassment gene has kicked in over the last year.
8) Buying the first Creme Egg of the season, and remembering to eat it before it melts.
9) Surviving four days in that rural ghost world beyond the reach of broadband and mobile phone reception, which I guess is much like a traditional Christmas used to be, ooh, at least five years ago.
10) Standing in the crowds back at Liverpool Station, surrounded by all the other Londoners going home to party for New Year, all dressed in designer sweatshirts and combat trousers in an attempt to blend in with the locals, waddling along the platform with suitcases and rucksacks bulging with enough unwanted presents to keep the local charity shop very happy.
