The end of term, and the approach to Christmas, is usually a fraught affair, drawn out affair. Certainly you Londerers who will have been going to Xmas parties for nearly three months straight now, which means the photocopier must be nearly out of toner. Many Marketing Scientists are now saying that Xmas music will be the only music played in shopping centers by 2011.
At the end of term, it's important not to do anything to draw attentions to yourself: keep your head down, maintain a low profile, get through till the holidays.
This is harder to do when people give you awesome and often massive presents on an embarrassingly regular basis. This is worsened when you colleagues get next to nothing.
In the last few weeks, I have been given:
- a Diesel watch
- a couple of shirts from Zara (excellent , well chosen)
- a set of carving knives (although this was given on the day of the daughter's resit exam. It was therefore somewhere between a present, a bribe and a threat. Either way, I failed her, which I'm hoping means that I've raised the bar for forthcoming gifts, but more than likely guarantees that this one will be used on me.)
- a pair of sandals (I know, but it's alright, there was a gift receipt)
- a cochecita (pram): one of those 4x4 posh parents ones (best displayed by those Dulwich Village parents who drive in smug convoy, except when they're talking so in depth about organic red cabbage and stray into Peckham or Brixton, whereupon they quickly circle the wagons and retreat... Anyway, one of them.
- and an Electrolux fan (big, metal, and shiny - cause it's hot)
I must be the only person who doesn't not dread the words: 'Er, there's a parent waiting for you at the office.'
More please.
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