So December is finally here! Everywhere you go you hear Shakin Stevens wishing Merry Christmas Everyone, and the shops have ditched the sale signs in favour of twinkly lights and sparkly frocks! Homes are full of children scribbling or, in this day and age, typing their letters to Santa, eagerly believing that being good will bring them that longed for pressie under the tree. It kind of got me thinking about belief! That child like conviction that Ol’ Fat ‘n’ Jolly will have got their note and is loading his sleigh with whatever electronic wizardry they tidied their room for. It is such a sweet thing but as adults we often fill our lives full of busyness and lose the sense of magic that imagination can bring, especially at Christmas.
As “grown ups” we quickly lose that belief in Santa, the Easter Bunny
and the Tooth Fairy usually when someone blabs in the playground or we catch
Mum scoffing the choccy eggs. I guess it is a bit like the belief that Mr/Mrs
Right is out there! That one person we imagine will complete our lives so we trawl
through endless find romance type websites, speed dating and the dreaded blind
date, all in bid to find THE life partner. Perhaps it would be easier to be
good and drop the man in the red suit a quick text? So what sours the theme
that for all of us THE ONE is out there? Having been through some horrendous
dates from a guy whose Mum came to pick him up, to another one where Mr Full
Of-Himself brought his washing to do while I made dinner, I guess I am just a
teeny bit sceptical. I have asked myself many times, if it is scepticism or as one
so called gentlemen told me, as he picked his teeth with his knife, that I have
too high standards!!!!! Actually it is none of the above because I know my
worth and like the children making their case to Santa, I know what I have done
in my life to deserve a half decent pressie.
I guess I would rather be “good” for a little bit longer and send that
virtual wish up the chimney for Bradley Cooper to come to his senses but in the
meantime, it is time to embrace the season. I will cope with putting up my large
Christmas Tree on my own, curse at the lights that do not work, try to remember
where I put the spare bulbs and electrocute myself as I fix the fuse when the
lights blow! At the end of it all, I know I can slob out in my seasonal PJ’s
with a wee sherry, a slab of Christmas cake and blub at schmaltzy films. I
guess that will be reward for being a (ahem) good girl, so in a way I do still
believe in Santa, it is just that my Santa wears jeans, is in her fifties and
lives in the West End of Glasgow.
I believe in me!
Find Geraldine...
Find Geraldine...
No comments:
Post a Comment