I really hate Christmas
It’s sacrilegious I know
But I really can’t stand it.
I am nobody’s Mummy —
I’d rather dance and drink gin than change nappies and shit:
Do you blame me?
And yes I have all of the love and affection
For summer vacations
For the chance to see family and to get lots of gifts, though
I mostly think birthdays are more than enough
If we’re talking the base acquisition of stuff…
So I still really hate it.

I’m looking forward to New Year’s,
Though I’m not expecting
A heap of improvement.
I could do with a break
A sleep-in, a day without make-up, a rest.
Yes, I really think that would be best.
I could do with a break
A sleep-in, a day without make-up, a rest.
Yes, I really think that would be best.

I don’t go in for Secret Santa.
I don’t believe strangers I get paid to work with are worth spending cash on.
I get freaked out by choosing:
Something not tacky or boring or cheap —
Can I just buy a gift card?

And yet, I can gladly buy Barbies for nephews,
A guitar for the twelve-year-old niece
Whose parents both voted One Nation
Who’ll probably say I’m a dyke
But won’t buy a bike
For their daughter who’s nicer than they.
(Oh and — spoiler — she’s gay.)

I won’t be watching the cricket.
The Boxing Day ritual of new Doctor Who, now
That’s Christmas for me.
‘Cause I could do with a break
A sleep-in, a day without make-up, a rest.
Yes, I really think that would be best.
I could do with a break
A sleep-in, a day without make-up, a rest.
Yes, I really think that would be best.

And you, my lovely boy,
My live-in-sin de facto,
You’ll be lounging as I do
Like a tree sloth with a three-day growth
And you will sympathise
With my words when I say
That whatever our folks and the telly may claim
These are the days when we proudly do not give a toss.
No deadlines, no boss.

And if, my darling man
When we’re eighty one or ninety one
The nurses come around
As we find ourselves taking our cups full of pills
We know what Christmas brings:
A sleep-in, a day without make-up, a rest.
Yes, I really think that would be best.
Whatever comes next
A sleep-in, a slow day, we lounge in our PJs,
No shaving and bras, just give us a rest
I really think that would be best
Better than getting too stressed
Lovely, whatever’s next
Really I think it’s the best
Nearly no need to get dressed
Clearly it all would be best
Really it would
Really…

I really hate Christmas.
It’s sacrilegious I know…