Lifestyle

I’m not ashamed of being a Christmas brat – every family needs one


I am the infamous Christmas brat, or as my parents call me, The Director (Picture: Jessica Lindsay)

At 9am on Christmas Day, my family all gets up and dad puts the coffee machine on. He doesn’t talk to anyone until he’s had his first cup, which I’ll allow because he does a late shift on Christmas Eve.

But that’s as far as it goes. Once Dad has had his coffee, it’s time for Santa presents with The Snowman on in the background. Don’t worry, I make sure we all go around in a circle and people open their presents in an orderly fashion before having scrambled eggs and croissants (my choice).

From there, the day goes like clockwork and I spend it – just like every December 25th – safe in the knowledge that I’ve orchestrated a fantastic celebration.

I am the infamous Christmas brat, or as my parents call me, The Director.

If you caught me at any time of the year, you’d see that timings, menus and organised fun couldn’t be further from the bottom of my list of priorities. But Christmas is different. 

Before my brother was born, I still had everyone’s attention and adoration (Picture: Jessica Lindsay)

Christmas is the day we wait all year for and one of the few times I get to see my family since I moved to London for work four years ago. So I want it to be right – and my way of doing Christmas is right.

Christmas brattiness didn’t start with me. Even in We Wish You A Merry Christmas there’s a horde of stubborn carol-singers who will not be moved until they are brought figgy pudding. Although I’ve never had a penchant for dried fruit, my attitude towards family and friends topping up my Prosecco and bringing me After Eights until I vomit is much the same.

Aged two, my parents had a room full of toys waiting for me to open. This was before my brother was born so I still had everyone’s attention and adoration. 

After opening the presents I told my parents that I was bored and had nothing to play with, which resulted in me getting in trouble and having to apologise. However, once I explained my position – that though I did have things to play with as a group, none of the toys I’d received were one-player – they agreed I wasn’t actually being rude, and had a lot to bring to the table in terms of Christmas ideas.

I also send my mum a Pinterest board in September and she knows it’s best not to deviate from it (Picture: Jessica Lindsay)

Since everyone else has learned this lesson, I perfect the turkey myself, having honed a specific brining method over the years. I buy the games we play and have free reign over the remote for any good Christmas shows I think we should be watching.

I also send my mum a present Pinterest board in September and she knows it’s best not to deviate from it. It’s not about how much she spends (the list is mostly all things under £20) and I insist that she spends an equal amount on me and my brother. 

The year she failed to include the total price of a phone she’d got him (she argued it was free and was only paying for the contract, but I beg to differ) all hell broke loose. And no-one wants a repeat of that.

My family weirdly seem to enjoy me running a tight ship on the big day. My mum, chatting to her friend on Facebook about her plans for this year’s festivities said, ‘Jess plans it to the letter. She is the director… you cannot veer from the plan!’ 

There were laughing emojis so I know for sure she enjoys my dictatorial attitude to Monopoly, music choices and whether we’re having bellinis or kir royales. Granted, she also told the same friend about the year I called my dad a c**t and got sent to my room because he tried to turn off Michael Buble – but these are small details.

Every household needs a Christmas brat to stomp around (Picture: Jessica Lindsay)

I have a massive family and if nobody takes charge and lays down the law, nothing will get done. Plus, my mum is a notorious feeder and all-round Irish mammy. Since I moved away, she seems to miss her nest being full and having things to do, and who am I to deny her the pleasure of letting me call the shots on that?

The simple fact is that every household needs a Christmas brat to stomp around and make sure that there’s plenty of cheer – and that it’s being distributed evenly. 

Otherwise, you’ll have teenagers slinking off to play Fortnite, nans who refuse to stop asking why you don’t have a boyfriend yet and dads bringing up Brexit and millennial snowflakes

For me, being a Christmas brat isn’t just about being spoilt (even if it is a bit about that). It’s about making memories, and keeping the people I love the most in the moment.

And I hate to break it to you, but if you can’t think of who the Christmas brat is in your family, it’s probably you.

MORE: As a doctor working at Christmas, I see the best of humanity

MORE: Christmas In Weird Places: December 25 on a North Sea oil rig

MORE: Every year on Christmas Eve, I face my rapist





READ SOURCE

READ  Book review: Feeding Britain by Tim Lang

Leave a Reply

This website uses cookies. By continuing to use this site, you accept our use of cookies.