THE TWELVE

You have to wonder about those Twelve Days of Christmas. You're there on the first day and your True Love gets you this huge, unwieldy thing, plenty of bubble wrap beneath the wrapping paper. After a bit of negotiation you get inside and that wave of confusion rapidly followed by disappointment hits you. Your True Love looks across, "It's a partridge. In a pear tree. Don't ya just love it?"

What can you say? "Well, of course. I mean, who doesn't like a pear tree with a partridge in it. That'll look good in the lounge. Thanks."

But, the next day you're getting a pair of turtle doves and by day four your True Love's handed you some French hens and some calling birds. What is this? Does your true love think you run a bird sanctuary?

By the time you get those five gold rings you'd be looking at pawning them to pay for the upkeep of the menagerie you're amassing.

And ten lords a'leaping? Who wants lords a'leaping? What do you do with them? "Sit down, you're making me nauseous." You can’t boss around a lord. Well, okay, maybe one. But ten of them?

There's swans, there's geese, there's pipers piping and drummers drumming. But you never hear what "me" gave the True Love in return, have you noticed? I'm thinking it was a book token, some chocolates in the shape of snowmen, maybe a pair of nice warm gloves. You know - normal stuff. And all that junk - the calling birds, the lords a'leaping, those incessant drummers, the whole works - I'm thinking it all went on eBay by January 9th. EBay and charity shops.