MY cousin sent me a slightly panicked text some day back in October looking for help. She asked her daughter, who is six, what she wanted for Christmas (first mistake) and her reply was LOL Surprise! Big Surprise. But because every other unimaginative six-year-old in Ireland also wanted a LOL Surprise! there wasn’t a single one to be found even though it was only October and who starts buying Christmas presents in October for the love of Moses? Also, a more important question I hear you ask: What the hell is LOL Surprise! Big Surprise? It’s basically a plastic ball that you open and there is a doll inside. LOL Surprise! is a doll in a ball that costs up to €80, so yes six-year-olds are suckers, but so are their parents. I didn’t tell my cousin that. Instead, I said that I would go to every corner of the UK to find my darling cousin what she wanted to make all her dreams come true, then I checked Argos and it was out of stock there too so I gave up. And I’m glad I did because two weeks later when she asked her what she wanted again the answer was a different overpriced toy and she had forgotten all about LOL Surprise! My point is when you think back on your favourite Christmas memories, I guarantee 0.01pc of them are happy because of a present you got, unless you are that one lucky bastard whose parents actually got you a pony. I don’t remember a single present my parents got me. I do remember loving when my godfather arrived every Christmas Eve with a cheque just for me, but it was him never forgetting his god-daughter that I cared about, not the cheque. I remember a warm house, mucking around in Superted pyjamas while my brothers tried to kill each other with Meccano pieces and despite them occasionally trying to kill me too, feeling safe and loved.