You cant beat a good old Kiwi Christmas

Make sure to tune in to Adam Green and Megan Banks on The Hits Hawke’s Bay from 6am to 9am, Monday to Friday.

Here comes the Christmas music. No December shop visit would be complete without Mariah Carey telling us what she wants us for Christmas, or Michael Buble´ crooning softly through the half-broken shop speaker as we consider whether the credit card will stretch far enough to get Aunty Doris that box of biscuits, or if it’s going to be a card and a $1 scratchie (though, if she wins, half of that $10,000 is yours, of course).

The exact same Christmas carols have almost been ringing out my entire life, and Snoopy must have flown over a million missions by now.

While that’s not a terrible thing (I’ll sing to Snoopy with the best of them), there are not a lot of carols that sing about the reality of the Kiwi Christmas.

Sleigh bells ring? I think not, unless we celebrate the festive season at Ruapehu’s crater lake — the sleighs better have a set of wheels we can pop down like the landing gear of a plane to hit the parched parks and melting tar of a Kiwi summer. Perhaps this could be a nice little Kiwi upgrade: “Tyres down, for the landing; money is gone, kids demanding; the sausages burnt, you’d think I would’ve learnt — Christmas in New Zealand has no snow.”

We all want a figgy pudding? While they are delicious, and Te Mata Figs have fabulous ones, “We all want a small siesta, tummies all full of Judy’s pasta, I had a wee bit of bubbly beverage, and I’ve peaked too soon” might be more befitting of a backyard lunch in the Kiwi sun.

It’s not really the sound of jingle bells which echoes across the backyards of Aotearoa at Christmas time; it’s more like: “Mother’s yells, mother’s yells, no-one’s helping out; oh, what fun it is to see our mother scream and shout, hey! Mother’s yells, mother’s yells, Dad’s off for a nap

— ‘I did all the work for this and no-one gives a crap.”

And as for last Christmas? If it’s anything like our house, it’s: “Last Christmas, I gave you that mug, and I kinda knew, when you denied me a hug — that I might have got it slightly wrong.”

In all seriousness though, with summer sun, po¯hutukawa in bloom, friends, family, barbecues, and maybe the odd misjudged present, I absolutely love a Kiwi Christmas. Even if I do have to hear Snoopy’s Christmas 500 times before it’s here!