Mother Christmas has heard all about the little donkey in the Year 2 Nativity at Hook Infant School - the poor young’un lost his / her head while clip-clopping across the stage but carried on regardless (and head-less)
in a display of quite admirable stage presence. No, he / she obviously didn’t actually lose his / her head, don’t be silly, it was the donkey hood which slipped off - but this in no way diminishes the valiant efforts involved in continuing to trot
despite it all.
Mother Christmas tends to collect such tales of Fortitude Under Fire to relate to Father Christmas in a bid to stir him from his current state
of Extreme Stress. It is the same every year in the run up to the Main Event - once he clambers aboard the sleigh, he will be all “Ho, Ho, Ho!” but up until then, he really is extremely difficult to live with.
In vain does she remind him that it is Just One Day. “But WHAT a day!” he grumbles, like tired parents the world-wide, trying to work out how to get everything done in time. Cards written,
stamped and despatched; gifts wrapped; tree decorated; shopping bought, unpacked and everything correct. Without any elves to help them either.
As she does every
year, Mother Christmas offers to share the load by driving the sleigh as far as the Milky Way. “Over my dead body!” retorts her husband, ungratefully. Which is, you have to admit, a really, really frightening thought given the millions of children
relying on him once again this year.
Mother Christmas tells him all about the little donkey who struggled so admirably in the face of adversity but the Big
Man is sunk in gloom. She decides to leave him to it and to check on the reindeer who, having successfully completed their annual Elf and Safety check with top marks, are quite insufferably proud of themselves. A little humility wouldn’t come amiss,
she thinks, so she tells them, too, about the little donkey. All nine of the reindeer shake their antlers in sympathy and Rudolph (of the red nose) is heard to murmur, softly: “Deer, deer!” The reindeer are well aware just how important it is to
stay on the right side of Mother Christmas because everybody knows that she is the real powerhouse behind the whole Christmas Programme.
It is she who will
make sure that every letter received in the North Pole post office is read through from beginning to end and the details entered on the festive spreadsheet. Mother Christmas is particularly proud of her new computer skills, having attended a two day course
run by a company called All Presents and Correct earlier in the year. She believes there is little chance now of anybody receiving the wrong presents this year and, let’s face it, believing is everything at Christmas.
She had rather less success when trying to model the warehouse side of the business on Ocado, trialling the use of robots to pack presents. This led to industrial action by the elves who downed tools
and called upon ACAS (the Averting Christmas Anti Santa action group) to intervene. Mother Christmas (a sensible woman) was persuaded to back down and to promise, by way of recompense for Wounded Feelings, that the elves could re-brand themselves as
Elves R Us. This not only pleased the elven crowd but also led to a quite startling lift in productivity.
She also attempted to raise spirits in the all-important
manufacturing arm of the operation by introducing Music While You Work - fortunately being dissuaded from playing Wizzard’s “I Wish it Could be Christmas Every Day” which might have led to a further rebellion. Instead she introduced Song
Requests. Prancer and Dancer requested “Let it Snow”, Comet and Cupid asked for “Winter Wonderland” and Rudolph, predictably, suggested His Song. Father Christmas, not wanting to be left out, put in a request for “I Love Sausage
Rolls” but this was vetoed by Mother Christmas who, concerned about her husband’s increasing girth, is endeavouring to introduce him to vegan food as part of an Elfy Living Diet.
I do hope none of this News from the North Pole is causing any concern to the World At Large. I have it on the very best authority that, as always, It Will All Be Alright on the Night...