Kirsty Bosley: My ultimate dinner party guests would be real sitcom specials

I have two cheese boards and three bottles of red wine sitting by the front door waiting to go to my boyfriend's parents house already. I'm not sure if I'm prepared to share any of them with Liz and Rob, even though they're being so kind inviting me to dinner.

Of course, I'm joking. They can have have a small glass of Merlot each – I'm not Ebenezer flaming Scrooge. I have never in my memory sat down on December 25 with both a mum and a dad in attendance. Though Liz and Rob aren't my own, I'm looking forward to seeing what some semblance of the traditional family is like. It'll be a novelty, like the alternative Channel 4 speech. Only much better, and with more hugs.

If they hadn't asked me to go round and eat my bodyweight in sprouts, I'm not sure what I'd be doing. It really got me thinking, actually, of that old discussion. Who, living or dead would you invite to the ultimate dinner party? If you could share your day with a bunch of people, fictional or real, who would you ask?

My own list is not necessarily filled with people that inspire me, figures that I look up to or those who have made a profound impact on my life. I want to say that I'd invite Morrissey, my late maternal grandfather or Prince, but all three would render me incapable of tucking in to my roasted vegetables. I'd swallow my tongue, or freeze up, overwhelmed. And I'm really looking forward to roasters, so all three of those magnificent, beautiful beings are off my list.

Instead I'd have to orchestrate the kind of dinner that you could sit back and enjoy without actually having to do much. And where can you find the best Christmas company when your dad has fallen asleep after one too many eggnogs and your nan is busying in the kitchen washing up?

Why, on sitcom Christmas specials of course! The Christmas special has changed over the years, and not for the better. These days, the time pressure for Britain to sit down at the same time to watch a show together has been alleviated. Everything's now on catch-up, plus one or on demand. It's not a case of 'quick, put BBC One on!'.

With this in mind, I've chosen my all time favourite characters from UK sitcoms to invite to my imaginary Christmas dinner. Liz and Rob would take pride of place on my table, of course, because they're the best.

And pull up a chair, because you're invited too.

RICHARD RICHARD AND EDDIE HITLER

Preparing Christmas dinner can be a headache, but there are two characters that have the potential of making light work of it. That or they could make everything 10 times worse. Either way, it'd be hilarious. After all, Richie and Eddie already have the ingredients – Richie's pair of women's tights (instead of a stocking) are packed with individually wrapped sprouts. Eddie might share his miniature bottle of Malibu with me, but I can't imagine it'd last long. We'd instead have to sink a sherry glass full of gravy. Bottoms up! The main event might be a bit of a wash out, particularly if Richie chops his finger off again. However, dessert would be a blast, especially if Eddie brings a portion of his special vodka margarine for the top of the Christmas pudding.

DEREK 'DEL BOY' TROTTER

Providing the pudding would be Del, arriving in his yellow three-wheeler, packed to the tinsel-bedecked roof with hooky gear. That means Christmas presents for everyone at bargain prices – Nyke Air trainers, anyone? Gifts aside, his knowledge of cocktails would lead to a very boozy Christmas night. I'm thinking massive blue lagoons with huge inflatable sharks floating in them. If Eddie has any Malibu left, that'd be right up Del's street. For the designated drivers and tea-totallers, Del could bring a case of Peckham Spring water which, despite glowing with hazardous waste, would go down a treat.

HYACINTH BUCKET ('IT'S BOUQUET!')

Imagine Hyacinth sitting next to Del at the dinner table? Him smoking cigars and elbowing her ('Petit pois, 'Cinth! Petit pois!'). I envisage her very posh, Queen Mother-style hat trembling atop perfectly coiffed hair as Del regales her with tales from The Nags Head. When Mrs Bucket makes an excuse to go and call her sister Violet (she's the one with the Mercedes, swimming pool, and room for a pony), Del would produce the biggest mobile phone you've ever seen and hand it over, turkey grease transferring on to her perfect white gloves. There are no comedic moments more hilarious to watch in Keeping Up Appearances than when Hyacinth is terribly uncomfortable or embarrassed. Whether it's her senile father running off causing trouble or a huge dirty, vest-wearing Onslow showing up at one of her candlelight suppers. I think I'd invite Onslow too, he just seems like my kind of person.

JIM ROYLE

After dinner is finished and we're all full and lethargic, our vulgar, trumping patriarch can get his banjo out to give us a heartfelt rendition of Christmas My A**e. He could sit on the other side of Hyacinth in his vest, mirroring Onslow who he'd probably get on with like a house on fire. Del would inevitably try and sell him some dodgy Adidas tracksuit bottoms, but Jim would have to decline because, not only does he like to sit around only in his pants, but his own friend Twiggy can get them at a better price. Hyacinth would probably comment that she recognises Twiggy, but can't place where from. Onslow would interrupt her with requests for Jim to sing and I'd go and get the Sara Lee Gateau for dessert. Jim would comment that it's lucky Cheryl hasn't popped round because she loves a slice of Black Forest. I'd secretly be glad she didn't either, because it means more cake for me and I've got a new oversized pair of trackies to accommodate my tum.