By seven in the evening my son and I arrived at the home of his fiancée’s family, the last of three visits that day. We had spent Christmas morning with my grandchildren; we had spent Christmas lunch with my brother, an hour east. I was afraid I'd be appearing exceptionally spent even before starting to spend the evening and next day with the in-laws-to-be, another hour south.
“Do you know what crackers are?” my future daughter-in-law asked, the excitement apparent in her voice.
And my personal favorite: I bought my friend Mary Berry's cookbook for Christmas. I tried to get Paul Hollywood's but he'd sold out. (OK, I admit I found that one on the Internet!)