Good grief, there must be
something I'd like for Christmas.
I'm sitting at the writing desk in the drawing room, trying to think of things to put on my letter to Santa. It's rather late to send one, but I'm hoping the big man will cut me some slack as
we helped him out last year.
But man, I'm stumped.
Socks? Do I need socks? I expect so, I never seem to have any.
Underpants? Hmmm, probably. These ones are developing a hole at the knee.
I write them down and consider my options.
This is always tricky. As a single guy, if I need something, I tend to go and buy it. I realise that this is usually the excuse I hear married couples give as to why they never buy each other things at Christmas. And I'm managing it solo.
Bravo, Roth, you’re an idiot.
I notice that I've misspelled
underpants.
Oh, this is hopeless.
Suddenly, an urgent furore outside draws my attention to the front door of the house. Standing, wondering if it's festive carollers, I instead hear the key turn in the lock, and a colossal growling, singing and roaring enters the house. It's clearly not drunken, just happy.
I reach the hallway as the door bursts inwards.
Roooooth! comes the cheering bellow of voices.
It's a horde of my companions. First comes my best friend
iDifficult, bearing a tray of steaming mince pies and coffee. Next comes
Bear, ducking under the doorframe with a Christmas tree tucked under one arm.
Yavin the badger, a deep coil of glittering Christmas lights round his neck, follows behind. The young badgers
Hoth and
Sollust then hurry in, lugging a heavy bucket of soil into the room between them, placing it in the corner. Finally,
King the resident lion and my beautiful neighbour
Abbey stroll in, arm in arm, with bags of decorations in their spare hands.
In less than a minute, the tree is planted, and the sparkling lights (that are somehow lit without power) are draped around it. The young badgers quickly decorate the lower tree with baubles, while Abbey and Bear deal with the upper half. And all the time, a wonderful many-voiced melody fills the room.
Silence falls expectantly, and I glance towards the door.
Dantoo, Yavin's youthful niece, in a sparkly red-and-green Christmas dress, shyly steps into view with Bear's girlfriend
Clarice. The little lass is bearing a shiny pair of Christmas bells. I give her my best smile, and she runs over to be picked up.
I move us to the tree, and she carefully places the bells at the top.
Everything looks perfect.
The coffee and mince pies are arranged on the table now, and I notice a crate of what looks like ginger fizz has somehow materialised under the table. Hoth and Sollust busy themselves with a bottle opener, and we all raise a cup.
My lifelong friend steps over to me, and pumps my hand enthusiastically.
Happy Christmas, old boy! he grins, and another cheer goes up.
To all of us, such as we are.
So, this is Christmas.
I return my attention to my Christmas letter to Santa on the desk. I fold it carefully, a lopsided grin on my face, and drop it into the bin by the desk.
I don't need to write a letter.
I have everything I need.
Merry Christmas everyone!
Indigo
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