Read on Twitter
Heading home for Christmas in what is absolutely the most bizarre of circumstances. And it’s led me to reminisce on Christmas days of the past and all the things that I took for granted, and little traditions we had at home...
My great aunt Bridie used to *always* buy myself and my brother pyjamas for Christmas. A little tradition was that we would always open the wrapped pyjamas on Christmas Eve and wear the Bridie pyjamas to bed.
Santa would leave footprints and a letter for us. His footprints looked suspiciously like baby powder, and his handwriting suspiciously like my dad’s. 
I remember every noise on Christmas Eve was Santa. Somewhere near our house was some gate that made a noise similar to a bell. It may have made that same noise every single night, but on Christmas Eve it was 100% Santa.
I remember I used to make one little secret request to Santa every Christmas Eve. Something I’d ask for that I’d tell nobody about. I’d just close my eyes and ask for it in my head, it was a little pact I had with Santa. And he always always always brought it.
That’s how I knew he was real. I had a little inside line that nobody else had. Two of the secret things I remember asking for were a Where’s Wally book, and a remote control Batmobile.
Speaking of the remote control Batmobile, something very odd happened with that one night. The batteries weren’t in it, but *I SHIT YOU NOT* the car drove across my bedroom floor. Apparently it was some wiring fault, but like, convince me that wasn’t some ghost shit. Shat myself.
I remember one Christmas, my brother and I decided to try make tiny little holes in pressies from parents. We poked so many holes in the pressies that they looked like colanders. My mother was not happy. The pressies were bike helmets... but I didn’t have a bike 
(Santa brought us bikes. And left powder footprints. And a letter in my dad’s handwriting)
As I got older, I remember Christmas losing a little bit of its magic. There’s a shift that happens from wonder and awe to a love of family and friends and excitement to see people. It’s the shift between the two of that makes Christmas strange.
I’m very very lucky to be able to see my family this Christmas. There’s almost a sense of magic and awe again just given the year that has just been. I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas, in one way or another. Happy Christmas folks, stay safe, go easy on one another...
