anneiskeepingbusy

In Asda, Beth fails to avoid Tessa who, as per, overshares. “Nobody knew about his autism when they married. Now they have five kids.”

The garden centre has sold out of Arthur Santa. Time was, when he was little, you couldn’t find an Arthur for love nor money.

Writing her Christmas cards, Lou is straining to wish people a peaceful 2025. What with Trump, Putin and all the rest, it seems ambitious.

On the train, the children wriggle and bicker. “Santa’s watching,” snaps the mother. They gamble on Santa cutting them some slack and carry on.

Since Trump’s victory, for his mental health, Charlie has stopped watching news. As a result, he almost missed Assad’s fall. One door closes, etc.

MPs say if the young cancel Netflix, this time next year they’ll be millionaires, or at least have a deposit. “Risible,” say the young.

At his beloved Arsenal, Noah pays £5 for tea and a KitKat. His season ticket is ruinously expensive, but what ya going to do?

Nat’s new yoga teach is Polish, or perhaps Russian. At the end of each move she barks out, “sufficient”. It’s less chakra, more Stasi.

The car is broken. The dealership says it will be at least three weeks – why? – so they spend the weekend strategising about Christmas travel.

Her favourite Caravaggio of the year, The Incredulity of Saint Thomas – a painting about evidence in a year when truth has taken a hammering.