For some reason, the Intrepids are tracking Santa, who's currently zipping round Hamburg, delivering perfectly wrapped gifts to German children. He's going at some speed; he only left Forbury Gardens at lunchtime.
So, as John and Yoko once observed, this is Christmas.
"I'm not feeling very festive," said my Mum in the kitchen. "By the way, did you dilute your dad's ginger wine with lemonade?"
"Yes Mum," I said, thinking back to a very funny story I can never tell anybody.
In truth I'm not sure I'm feeling all that festive either. Sure enough we watched The Muppets Christmas Carol and It's a Wonderful Life. And yes, we burned down the stub of advent candle to a waxy puff of smoke. We listened to Sleigh Ride and we roasted the duck ready for tomorrow; we ate mince pies and we planned precisely how we would watch the Queen's Speech at 3pm. All the mechanics are there, just not quite the sheer sparkling excitement of it.
There is though, an enormous pile of presents with the Niblings' names on. We might not feel the excitement of it like we used to, but they certainly will. Perhaps that's exactly how this system is supposed to work.
"Maybe that's what's missing!" said my Dad, leaping to the same thought, "The children."
He paused for a while... "Is this watered down?" he asked, holding his glass aloft.
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