Putting the fun in dysfunctional
Who has the best Christmas anyway? That’s what I want to know. Every year we’re made to feel inadequate due to our inability to replicate the perfect family scenes we see on telly every year. You know, the ones where Mum or the turkey aren’t frazzled, Dad’s not swearing his head off at the kids fighting and Grandad’s not moaning about his gout. Here’s a scene from my new book that describes what I’m on about. 1984 was only bearable because Band Aid’s ‘Do they know it’s Christmas?’ made us grateful for what we got that year.