Thank you for my present. It was very kind of you to buy me a book that I did not want.
I only received three presents exactly the same. What were you thinking of, you stupid old witch. Do you not read my Facebook profile? I've got all my likes and dislikes listed on there and "books" do not appear. Nobody my age reads books any more. I even opened your present in front of my friend Dan because I thought it was going to be a well wicked computer game, but it was only a stupid book. Now Dan will tell everyone at school I got a book for Christmas and I will be homphobically bullied for months. I hate you I hate you.
Daddy says I have to thank you for letting us come round for tea on Boxing Day. God knows why because your cooking is pants. Your sandwiches tasted like cardboard and your Christmas cake was well sick. When I'm older I will sue you for making me fat and lardy, and it'll all be the fault of that extra slice of stodgy fruitcake you forcefed me.
Why did we have to play Monopoly all afternoon? Monopoly is the most boring game in the entire world, except perhaps for charades (which is maybe why we played that next). Do you not have a games console in your house? We have six. Daddy says that some old people never had games consoles when they were young and they had to make their own entertainment like collecting stamps or whittling twigs or even reading books. And there wasn't even the internet either. No wonder you're a bit screwed up.
I cannot believe you made us watch television. TV is for old people and for saddoes. I did not want to watch the bloody Narnia film. It is not 'family viewing' (or whatever you called it), it is a lot of posh kids talking to lions and it is for babies. I watched it at Dan's when I was about six, and it was rubbish then. At least his house didn't smell of lavender and rich tea biscuits. Yours does.
Next year please text me in advance and we can avoid any embarrassing scenes. You could even buy me something I actually want. A knife would be good. Daddy won't let me have one, but I'm sure you're more reasonable. In fact I bet you used to have one when you were little, so why can't I? I promise I'll only use it for whittling.
And next year, please do not kiss me. Not like ever.
