SO, it's all over, Christmas and New Year that is. If you are a Christian, you probably said, "Thank God for Christmas". If not, you probably said, "Oh God, it's Christmas".

When I was a child, kids used to sit on Santa's knee and ask for - but never expected to get - a bike, the Beano annual and an orange in your sock duly hung at the bottom of the bed.

I got the Beano and Eagle when I was 10 but I never did get the new bike.

Kids now want Currys - the store, not the food. Today they sit on Santa's knee and ask for the latest DVD player, a new widescreen TV and stereo to match and don't forget the Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings DVDs.

All this under CCTV surveillance, not in case of any improper action by a wayward Santa but to save Father Christmas being knee-capped should he suggest "No chance, sonny".

Then there's Christmas crackers. Why do we pay good money for the centre of a toilet roll wrapped in crepe paper filled with a plastic ring that never fits anyone's finger, or a whistle without a pea in it, and a paper hat that falls apart at the slightest tension?

Worthy of a mention too is Christmas dinner, that culinary madness when households serve 18 people at a table made for six, huge amounts of food being consumed in between mouthfuls of elbow of the person sitting next to you.

And there's always someone who doesn't like turkey, which goes down a bomb with the cook who got up at five to carry out surgery on it so it would fit in the oven.

The other scourge of the Christmas feast, of course, is the vegetarian whose nut roast has to be microwaved at the same time as the mixed veg, throwing the whole timetable into chaos.

So is Christmas losing its magic? No longer the smoking nub end stuck in the funnel of your new train set, no orange in your stocking, no simple gifts any more, just the Vallium by your side as comfort when the Visa statement comes and the joy of doing it all again next year.

You can avoid all this trouble. Tell everyone there will be no presents next year and you are eating out.

A Birdseye turkey dinner on the patio, only two and a half quid, and no washing up.

GRAHAM BECK

Horton Close

Alcester