MS: *crashing noisily through door wearing knitted turkey hat, arms full of wrapping paper, mouth full of chocolate*
Me: *sighing, putting down list* Oh hello.
MS: *opening arms (and mouth) wide, dropping paper (and chocolate) everywhere* Hiiiiiiiiyyyyaaa.
Me: Well this is an unexpected pleasure.
MS: I know, I know! I'm like an early Christmas gift.
Me: Hmm, pretty sure I've not asked Santa for you this year.
MS: *pouting, wiping chocolate from chin* Yes, I had noticed. And don't think I'm not hurt by that sweetie.
Me: Well it's just that...
MS: *interrupting loudly* Twelve months of relative quietness. Fifty-two weeks of reasonable energy levels.
Me: Erm, well....
MS: *ignores, continues in louder voice* Three hundred and sixty five days of only minor blips.
Me: Yes, but....
MS: *now at eardrum splitting volume* Thirty-one million, five hundred and thirty-six thousand seconds of slightly uneasy calm. It's not enough for me dahling.
Me: Oh, er, sorry?
MS: Yes, that's right. Sorry is right. Why haven't you seen much of me? Could it be that I've offended?
Me: Well, not offended as such, more sort of....
MS: Could it be that I came on too strong? Too upfront with my attention?
Me: Well, yes, that could be it, I mean...
MS: But my dear, I only want to shower you with the gifts I can give. Gifts like numbness or sight loss or pain. Presents like worry or fatigue or confusion. Gems like falling over or reduced income or fear for the future.
Me: Yes. Not exactly gold, frankincense and myrrh is it?
MS: What is myrrh? I've always wondered.
Me: It's a gum from a thorny tree. Supposed to have medicinal qualities.
MS: Oh. Well, I wouldn't be bringing you anything helpful along those lines would I?
Me: Obviously not. So what is it you wanted?
MS: I told you, I've hardly seen you all year. I miss your little squidgy face.
Me: *nervously prodding face* And?
MS: And what?
Me: There must be something else. I can't believe you've let me get away with limited problems for a whole year when you're causing such horrors for other people.
MS: Well, there is one thing.
Me: Knew it. What?
MS: *scrabbling in pockets and taking out a tiny gold box* Well, it's this.
Me: *surprised* Oh! Is that a present? An actual present?
MS: Of course. It's to remind you of me at this special time of the year.
Me: Oh, crikey. Thanks. *thinks* It's very small. What is it?
MS: *gathering up wrapper paper heading to door* Oh, it's a box of guilt.
Me: It's a what?
MS: *leaving* You know, guilt. Bit of fear in there too. It's small now but it will get bigger and bigger the less you see of me. Happy Christmas.
Me: *Looking at gold box, panicking*
:: Pandora's box by OMD
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