I have now gone into Christmas siege mentality.
This is attributable to two factors:
Firstly, there is always a point in the pre Christmas run up where you inevitably throw caution to the winds and start randomly buying things. You buy things because you have been buying things for so long, you simply cannot stop – and you just keep on handing over bits of plastic in exchange for more bits of plastic. It’s like being a hamster on a wheel. I got like that with present buying last week.
This week it is buying food. Even though we are going on holiday on Friday we absolutely need forty eight clementines, six dozen eggs and industrial quantities of pickled cabbage. We just do. I am in full on, reflex, buying mode.
Secondly, I think I am suffering from the ghost of Christmas past.
I am rather old, and when I was little shops really did close down forever. Or for what seemed like forever. If you did not run around the shops like a loony, buying tins of spam and salmon and stocking up on condensed milk, you would run out of food by the day after Boxing Day and be reduced to cannibalism. Even though shops now open at one minute past midnight on Boxing day morning, I still cannot shake the feeling that we will run out of food, and we will all DIE if I do not buy everything, all at once.
I still vividly remember the Christmas we ran out of milk and my mum and dad had to have a crisis meeting over the kitchen table, and then go and beg for milk from the neighbours.
It was terrifying.
Hence the panic buying.
I had an Ocado delivery last Thursday.
Then on Sunday I went to Tesco because we had already run out of bread and milk (how did that happen?).
Today I have been to Aldi – I did not need to go there until my friend Claire (or my enabler as I like to think of her), sent me a photo of a chocolate and salted caramel bombe. While I was there it would have been rude not to pick up another bottle of champagne, specially as it had been reduced from £11.99 to £9.99. Then I decided I fancied roast chicken for tea, so I bought a chicken.
On the way home I realised I had forgotten to buy baked beans, which was what I really went out for in the first place.
We stopped at Tesco Express and bought beans.
Then my Christmas Ocado order arrived this evening.
The fridge is now bursting. Every surface is covered in food, and yet I realised I am down to my last half pat of butter, and I have nearly eaten all the pickled cabbage already.
I must hie me to the shops again.
If it weren’t for the fact that everyone else is doing the same thing as me, my local Tesco would think I was casing the joint.
As it is, if I die of surfeit over the Christmas holiday make sure you toast my passing with a glass of something, and remind Jason they will need a double width coffin.
There should be plenty of leftovers for the wake.