Without wishing to blaspheme, it’s been a bit like the stable in Nazareth round my house this week, as every day a man has appeared delivering delayed-by-the-weather gifts.
If Parcelforce had been around 2,000 years ago, I reckon they’d have been there, in Nazareth, early January, knocking on the stable door and proffering to Joseph an excessively packaged delivery of gold, frankincense and myrrh, to be signed for on one of those impossible-to-write-on electronic pad thingies.
“We were meant to get these to you by the 25th December,” Mr Delivery will say, cheerily, “but we took one look out at the weather and we said, ‘There’s no way we’re risking driving in that!’”
“Wise men,” Joseph will intone, with just a hint of sarcasm, cos two weeks hanging around in straw, without much sleep, can fairly take the edge off a person’s good humour.
And while I didn’t get the holy trinity of gifts, I wasn’t far off. A DVD of Dave Allen, which you’ll have to agree is comedy gold, a DVD of Frankie Boyle, who’s now known as Frankie Incenses Everyone (see what I did there?) and a make-up palette in a box with a wee myrrh on the lid.
Apart from an odd whiff of donkey off everything, it’s been heavenly