Janet Christie's Mum's the Word - Can Secret Santa help me swerve the present pressure?

IN THE current economic climate (heat or eat?) and in a bid to swerve the pressure around presents it’s time for our family to embrace the Secret Santa, and as the one with the most experience Youngest Child has been nominated as Chief Elf.

“What? I’m not doing it,” she says. “But you’re taking ages to get everyone’s emails so I’ll just get on with it,” and in a flurry of fumbs we’re all signed up and allocated.

“I think we should make it a rule that we all make the gift,” says Middle Child, who hates Christmas and has been known to disappear halfway through the 25th for a climb, returning in the evening for round two. “Something we put thought into, something personal, not just go and buy something to add to It All.”

Nice, but I can’t knit with a kitten in the house and when I brought home brambles to make bramble vodka the premium bottle that’s been collecting dust in the cupboard for a year was missing. Of course it was.

“What bottle of vodka?” and “It’s not as if you drink,” said one of the accused.

“Tell that to the man in the shop who said: ‘Anything else? Do you mibbe want a bottle of Glen’s with that doll?’ when I was paying for my paper,” I say, still affronted.

“Just go online and choose something,” says Youngest, “Stop stressing.”

She’s right, if my gift’s a fail it’s all anonymous anyway (apart from that home-made, thoughtful present).

“What are good Secret Santa ideas?” I ask her. “What do you get for your work one?

“Last year I got someone a bottle of Buckfast.”

“That’s insulting,” I say.

“No, it’s not. That’s what he wanted.”

“Classy.”

“Judgy.”

“And I got my best friend in the draw,” she says, “and he gave me face masks, a gift card and something girly, chocolates or something,” she says. “Perfect!”

I’m tempted to enter the gender/confectionary demarcation debate, but this is no time for rabbit holes, especially with a feminist wearing a Playboy bunny hoodie who may not share the premium dark chocolate I brought her from a weekend away.

“But it’s called SECRET Santa, how did you know it was your friend?” I say.

“Cos everyone wants the credit afterwards so they all spill.”

So much for avoiding the present pressure then.