Well, this has never happened before. It's unprecedented, unheard of, a unique event.
I mean, on a scale of one to ten, where, one is 'this happens all the time' and ten is 'this never happens,' this is...oh, you get the idea.
Normally Katie and I treat Christmas as athletes treat the 100 metre sprint. No, I realise that's not a good analogy, given that we both get out of breath merely rising from the sofa, but bear with me. When it comes to Christmas, we tend to leave everything until the last minute, waiting until an imaginary starting pistol is sounded on or around December 15th each year. And we rush around like our pants are on fire, stretching for the finishing line at 23:58 on Christmas Eve.
There are female friends and relatives who have very nearly received ties as presents in past years.
Up until yesterday it looked very much as if we were going to follow this pattern once more. Our home was gift-less, our lists unticked. The stress level was beginning to build, boosted by every seasonal advert on the telly.
Especially that Iceland one with Jason Donovan. It's wrong on an impressive number of levels.
Yesterday and today Katie created her very own consumer boom. Online and in-person, she shopped. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you a wonder of the moderns age: my wife with a shopping list and a debit card. If shopping was the Coliseum, Katie would be a gladiator. She took the present list by the scruff of the neck and gave it a damn good hiding.
We are complete. Presents bought, paper bought, turkey the size of an Airbus booked. We have no room in the house, but at least I can look Jason in the eye from now on.
I'm not entirely sure what we'll do with ourselves in December. There is nothing more to do. This circle is unbroken, we are complete, finished, 100%.
What's that, you say? Have I bought Katie's present?