Family Christmases used to be predictable, sometimes enjoyable and usually manageable. Stage One: The children still (nearly) believing in Father Christmas, the drunken giggles as Pater Familias sneaks into darkened bedrooms with the stockings full of unsuitable goodies, the battle to keep the major presents unopened under the Christmas Tree until 3.5 pm as the last strains of the National Anthem serenades a departing Queen. The early bed for overexcited children and the stuffed turkey for already overstuffed adults. Silly games: Consequences, Picture ditto, Scrub a fairy (better not ask) and bed with various degrees of fading consciousness

Stage two: as stage one but with hulking teenagers, lack of belief in FC but hysterical rage if no stockings on offer, pre Queen self denying ordinance, no early bed and all, including hulking teenagers joining in silly games including Scrub a Fairy (better not know) and even later retirement with a greater range of unconsciousness than Stage One.

Stage three: Junior family members, early twenties, some with partners, all expecting stockings, Father Christmas in bed long before intended recipients thus involving plastic bag hanging on door knobs at 5am, belching rtaher than giggles. Queen politely endured, ditto pre Dinner Grace, Red wine sunk like the Belgrano, silly games but resistance building from new comers, resistance also to helping with chores especially washing up and peeling potatoes, Scrub a Fairy (better remain Agnostic) barely accepted. Bed perhaps; unconsciousness inescapable.

Now of course a third generation of the expanded family has emerged and stage one should come into its own again? Alas No. Now the family with many diverse in-laws to gratify many have to play away. There may be foreign parts to visit the far flung; some houses are unfitted for mass invasions and accordingly the nuclear family disintegrates into the subtraction of its parts. Last year Huttonian and the Wife entertained but two other family members; this year in the Hielands we will sit down 7 to dinner. Two stockings possible, Silly Games uncertain, including Scrub a Fairy (so you don’t need to know). There will be some of the core elements of the Ghosts of Christmas Past; post prandial unconsciousness and the Queens Speech join death and taxes as part of the inescapable human condition.

And we will all help with the washing up.  ¶ 9:48 PM