Probably the worst memory I have of Christmas was going to Nanny's in Epsom when I was about 8. We must have travelled the 200 miles on Christmas Eve as I remember not feeling very well and getting out of bed to go to the bathroom. Because she lived in a flat you had to walk through the living room. I caught her wrapping some Christmas presents and I knew then there was no Father Christmas!! Everything changed from that moment on, the magic was gone.
One of the best Christmas mornings I can remember was opening a present containing a black & white portable television. I thought it was wonderful. I sat on the floor in the front room (because the rest of the house was freezing) with my ear piece in (everyone else was watching the big TV) and watched the Sound of Music all the way through.
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