How I found the festive spirit without the aid of gin

So just as I was leaving for work a blizzard erupted. Stomping up the hill to my car swathed in woollens like a grumpy little teddy bear, I was muttering all manner of dark things about car scraping and inevitable traffic chaos. My car battery is on it’s way out and the snowflakes the size of hamsters meant there was a good chance it wouldn’t start and I would be abandoned in a hell of ice and possibly frozen rodents.
Then a door opened and two small children emerged and suddenly lit up with wonder and joy at the sight. Their little faces were all aglow and merry cries of ‘snow’ abounded like it was the first time they’d ever seen it.  Shrieks of ‘it’s Christmas!’ soon followed, they were  like two tiny Noddy Holders on extra crack.
For a few minutes it really brought the magic back into the festive season
Of course, if my car hadn’t started I planned to harness them to the front like huskies and drive them across the frozen plains of Surrey like it was fucking Narnia

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