Baby Jesus or Baby Hell?

Most people aren't working today for Baby Jesus related reasons. Tomorrow is his birthday and being Jesus he likes to have a good three day knees-up to celebrate. I feel like a touch of blissful Yuletide solitude so decide on a semi-remote countryside walk on a white canvas near parentsville (Leicester). Just me and the footprints left in the snow behind me. Possibly the odd robin or jackdaw for company with a 50% chance of bumping into Alan and Diana Bushringer walking their huge doberman, who will inevitably come charging towards me as if I'm a human shaped can of Pal with pig's ears and cat's livers hanging off me.

As the top of Thurnby Hill teases itself into view, it's chief resident, The Rose and Crown cries out a verse of 'Come and have a nice pint and a bowl of soup'. Belting out a chorus of "Right you are, be there in ten" I receive a call on my Nokia 6440. 

It's a 40-year-old friend of mine who hasn't got kids. I too am 40-years-old and haven't got kids. Christmas is all about kids. We have an earnest conversation about being 40 and still not having kids. We conclude that we are both happy (separate happiness's) with this and that being so accustomed to the freedom we both have now (separate freedoms) puts us slightly in fear of the change having kids (separate kids) would bring. Needless to say if it's with the right girl (separate girls) and there's no MacDonalds, relentless shouty telly, plastic crap obsessions or Centre Parcs involved then maybe it will be alright.

I bid my 40-year-old friend a hearty farewell and enter the Rose and Crown for a nice pint and a bowl of soup.