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As per every other aspect of parenting, even Christmas presents have become an element contested, a topic with controversy and even an avenue for shaming other parents. It is a magical time of year that can often be magically stress-inducing.
There are ‘must-have’ toys, the letters to Santa with specific requests outlined, visits to Santa to double check he received the list, and there’s our mate Elf on the Shelf watching over our children to decide whether they have behaved well enough to receive the presents from Santa. So much fuss is made around Christmas presents that it practically becomes a full production with supporting characters, sets, props and a lot of imagination.
Most years I find myself at the shopping centre with less than a week to go until the Big Day. I am one amongst the crowds of sweaty, busy people, holding too many bags trying desperately to just get the F out. I have those painful red marks on my arms where the handles are digging in because I no longer have any room in my actual hands to hold more (but I refuse to get a trolley because that is more of a pain in the arse when there are lots of people and I am stubborn) and the Christmas carols, which I actually really love, are finally starting to grate on my nerves. Voices singing “let’s be jolly, deck the halls with boughs of holly” start making me say (at least in my head) “good golly, soon I will deck them with my trolley.”
According to science, putting up your Christmas decorations early makes you happy.