Christmas is, after all, a time for giving. And I had given myself a lovely new wireless speaker, which now takes pride of place on the bookshelf in our lounge.
I was busy showing it off to Alex and her friend Rachel, who had stayed over following the party. Running through various songs, cranking up the volume to demonstrate the lovely, smooth bass, and gorgeous mid-tones.
Yes, they were suitably impressed. Until, that is, Alex suddenly asks “Where’s the nativity?”
“The what?” I respond, searching through a playlist to find another song that will adequately demonstrate the prowess of my new gadget.
“The nativity. It’s normally on the shelf, where you’ve put the speaker.”
This was a correct observation, but until then I had forgotten all about the nativity, which I guessed was still packed away somewhere upstairs in the loft. Although I’m not a religious person by any means, I did feel a slight pang of guilt. Poor baby Jesus, Joseph and Mary, and the sheep and wise men all packed away up there in the cold, damp loft, all dark and alone. How could I be so thoughtless? So I turn up the volume a bit. There, I think, they can hear it too now.