If you ask me...Christmas is in the air. I've already sniffed it

The fear of not giving enough, the endless hunting for scissors and Sellotape - what's not to love about this magical time of year?

1965: An American family admire a turkey their mother is bringing to the table. A small Christmas tree with presents is in the background. (Keystone / Getty Images)

If you ask me, Christmas is in the air – I sniffed it just this morning, and I’m rarely wrong – and while the bah-humbuggers are already out in force, I am not among them, as I absolutely love Christmas and everything about it.

I love spending all my hard-earned money on heavily advertised, warmongering toys for boys, and pink, saccharine crap for girls. I love attending the school fair and being told: “That wasn’t Santa. It was Alexander’s dad!”

I love carol singers, particularly that group of hoodies who barely know the first line to “Silent Night” yet menacingly hold out their hands for cash. I love the way my Fear of Not Giving Enough makes me dizzy in Debenhams, as does my Fear of Giving Too Little.

I love it when my Fear of Not Giving Enough meets my Fear of Giving Too Little and I may actually pass out (“Aisle seven, ladies’ scarves, shopper down!”). I love buying presents out of desperation and then convincing myself otherwise, as in: “What old person who can’t bend wouldn’t want a fishing game for the toilet?”

I love endlessly hunting for the scissors and Sellotape. I love giving all our household rubbish to the school tombola then winning it all back. I love all the expectation and the challenge of living up to it. I love my Fear Of The Turkey Being Too Small and the way I tremble when it meets my Fear Of The Turkey Being Too Big, and the way I may even pass out again. I love busting a gut trying to hunt down some toy which will then prove only fleetingly amusing, at best.

I love having my mother-in-law to stay and being told: “This must have been a nice house once.” And I love my mother-in-law’s face when she opens that fishing game for the toilet. I love the thought of all those Christmas puppies being euthanised in the New Year.

I love the way the Argos catalogue features 30,000 products except the one you want, which is out of stock. And, lastly, I particularly love the endless catalogues and gift guides and recipe supplements which, encouragingly, will always include dishes for Boxing Day, as if all the cooking for Christmas Day hasn’t killed you already. That said, I have a good recipe for Boxing Day which, being full of the seasonal cheer, I am happy to share with you:

Ingredients: One finger.

Instructions: When anyone asks, “What’s for lunch?”, give them aforementioned finger.

I serve this recipe every year, and it has yet to let me down. I totally love it, and I suspect you will, too.