Jack Averty: Frazzled by the festivities

And when the gloves and scarves start coming out we all know what it signifies – Christmas is coming.

That mad couple down the street might have had their decorations up since August, but December is when the festivities really start for the normal folks.

B-celebrities entertain the crowds at switch-ons, festive markets are heaving, long-awaited Christmas adverts are released and those seasonal songs we never seem to tire of fill the radio and shop speakers.

It truly is the most wonderful time of the year.

But while glugging back that fifth mulled wine and stuffing mince pies by the bucket load, spare a thought for the panicking folk who are hosting Christmas dinner for the first time.

OK, how hard could it be? Simply buy turkey and the trimmings, cook it on the day and plough people with enough wine to make sure they can’t taste the fact the bird came out the oven an hour too late and the bread rolls taste like brick because you bought them two months in advance.

So there might be a few glitches, a few crisped carrots and over boiled Brussels sprouts, but everyone is usually in high spirits and the day goes well.

But no one warns you just how stressful the run-up to Christmas is.

Once the clock struck midnight on November 30 it seemed everyone joined operation Christmas, marching to the nearest supermarket and remaining there ever since.

Having already cleared the shelves of all the pigs in blankets and stuffing, the unfortunate souls who didn’t get the memo are left to race round the aisles, grabbing whatever is left, even if it means the mother-in-law gets custard instead of brandy cream (just keep the port glass full and she may not notice).

And having wrestled your way through to the shelves, bashing shoppers out the way with your worryingly empty trolley, trying desperately to grab what you need before other people swipe all the good stuff first, another problem presents itself – what do you get the vegetarian?

Quorn roast? Sounds good, shove it in the trolley. Heart attack over. . . that is until you reach the frozen meat isle and every single refrigerator shelf has been emptied.

A few sorry-looking turkeys remain. It is potentially the worst meat going and does anyone actually like it? But it’s tradition apparently and who are we to question Santa?

However, turns out it’s not quite so simple as just picking up a turkey, no no no. There is a choice between a turkey crown or a full turkey, and then there’s the dilemma of having to pick the right weight.

What if we don’t buy enough? And what if people don’t like the dry bird anyway? Maybe it’s worth trying another store, doing the jump from Asda to Waitrose for the sake of trying to please everyone.

But having battled through another swarm of slightly more middle-class but still just as pushy shoppers, being faced with an onslaught of beef, goose, duck, pork, chicken and partridge is enough to bring on a breakdown. We don’t even know what a partridge is, let alone how it tastes.

Those well-intentioned plans to get Christmas Day sorted early have hit a roadblock and brought a grown man to tears – so much for happy ruddy Christmas.

And while panicking and getting overly anxious about the dinner, there is still pudding, nibbles, entertainment and drinks to think of.

And while we’re piling all the problems into one big festive puddle, there’s also presents to think of and buy for all the family.

Most of them haven’t made a list and just said ‘get me anything’ – so you get them anything and they look decidedly unimpressed on the day – there’s a surprise.

While listening to Mariah’s Santa Baby for the fifth time in the same shop, picking up presents nobody wants and still without meat for the big day, it is safe to say Christmas could not seem further away from being the most wonderful time of the year.

Christmas shopping seemed so much simpler when we would just follow our mums round from shop to shop.

We never realised back then, but mums are highly trained soldiers when it comes to festive food shopping.

While we’re all crying in the meat aisle surrounded by overweight turkeys, mums are picking up crackers for a pound, Brussels sprouts that have a sell-by date of January and cheese that doesn’t stink the fridge out.

Not even in our wildest dreams could we think of bagging such luxuries, but mums do it without even batting an eyelid. They also somehow manage to find the perfect size turkey and a cheap wine that everybody loves without breaking sweat.

Maybe it will get easier for children doing it on their own as time passes, maybe we too will master the art of becoming a Christmas soldier, able to snipe a bargain from four miles away.

But until that point we are left with no food, no presents and no hope. Oh and a fridge that absolutely stinks because apparently camembert is a ‘thing’ at Christmas.

Still at least the chocolate in the advent calendar tastes nice. Well that’s what our friends tell us anyway, we were too busy fretting about what we were going to do for emergency chairs on Christmas day that we never bought one.