Читать книгу Four Christmases and a Secret - Zara Stoneley - Страница 12

Disaster! Point 1 on my list is not looking good. I cannot find my flaming Christmas jumper anywhere, despite urgent search last night and again this morning before setting off for work.

I think Uncle Terence started the obligatory Christmas jumper tradition because he knew that we would all get hot and need to strip off at some point. When I was at junior school I thought it was funny, now I’m over thirty having a red nose adorning my boobs isn’t quite as hilarious. However, not wearing said jumper will leave me feeling naked and exposed – I will be the centre of attention, which must be avoided at all costs.

I have left it a little late to buy a new Christmas jumper. I’ve been in every supermarket and clothes shop and I am now in the pound shop. I might have to settle for a hot-chick T-shirt, or a ‘bargain buy’ Rudolf that looks like a cross-eyed donkey. Decisions, decisions. I have never been good under pressure, plus the only antlers left are the ones in the pet shop (I checked in there in case they had a jumper that would fit an Irish Wolfhound or some other giant breed, that could be modified for human use). Said antlers are more suited to a Labrador. I might have to buy some for Stanley instead.