Joy.

Between my sister and I, there has come about a pretty strict idea on how to do Christmas right. It’s the small things that can drag down my festive cheer, like when people refuse Christmas pudding on the big day (put your taste buds aside and take one for the team, you bunch of Scrooges!)

I’ll watch with despair as the family drop off like flies on Christmas day – each one dozing off to sleep, mouths dropping open whilst hopes of a fun filled festive game of Cluedo crumble.

Each year my sister and I will hatch a plan, “this year will be the year” we’ll say. The year when we don’t forgot to serve up the roast potatoes, the year when the whole family participates in a game of Scrabble; how we’ll laugh, how jolly we’ll be, yes…this will be the best Christmas yet.

Jump to Boxing Day and the critique of the Big Day: It was good, but it could have been slightly more funny, jovial, memorable. In the end we’ll draw the same conclusion: People needed to get more drunk.

Therefore, this Christmas I didn’t expect anymore than a lovely time spent with family and good food. However, with aspirations lowered, it just so happened that The Best Christmas crept up on us.

It probably all boils down to the fact that we decided to go out for lunch this year. Cue gasp of horror from readers.

I know, I know, no turkey to stuff…no vegetables to serve lukewarm…no roast potatoes to forget…but it really was marvelous.

We had family.

We had starters (what a treat!!!)

We had laughter.

And then after that, we had funny glasses.

It was truly joyful.