But before we unwrap more of our presents, allow us to go back in time...

Don't you hate it when you're at church - I realise I could just end that sentence there, but i'm not going to. Ahem. I'll start again. Don't you just hate it when you're at church and the reverential silence is shattered by the wailing of some errant child or other. You look around and see a hapless parent failing to coax their offspring back to silence and shoot them a glance that is two parts pity to three absolute contempt. You wonder a) why they had to bring the child in the first place and furthermore b) why such saps bothered to procreate at all.

Yes, that gives you some flavour of Christmas Eve, when my annual 'totally under duress but anything for a quiet life' visit to church was cut short by a bout of classic playing up from Olivia. Before the service was even halfway done we were both at Grandma's house with a biccy and Coronation Street on the box. That's my girl...