Opinion
Eithne Shortall: I forgot that December is a bit like childbirth
This is supposed to be my favourite time of year – but once the blind optimism fades, the disappointment can be disproportionate
At 3am one morning last week, my two-year-old daughter was sitting on my reindeer bedspread, mainlining a banana and feverishly recounting everything she had ever done and every thought that had ever entered her head.
“I go doctor with Mama, I get sticker, I get more stickers. I get purple sticker. I love purple. Doctor say I great girl. ’Member Mama, ’member, ’member?”
On and on went the delirium until the Calpol kicked in and ...