The fourth day of Cheesmas

 What? Wait. 4th day? Are you sure it’s not the 5th day? Did I forget to put the bins out?

If you didn’t have to go back to work straight after Christmas it is time to venture out of the house. Get out of those pyjamas, as lovely as they are, maybe even put on a bra (not for a whole day, I’m not mad, bras are not for Cheesemas). Maybe it’s the day you take back the jumper that you stupidly thought would be a break from the traditional blue or the dress he bought you that didn’t have pockets. 

If you are from a large extended family then you might still be visiting. 

For many years, the 4th day of Cheesemas was when my mum’s sisters got together. Not when I was very young but later, after my grandparents had died and they all had their own growing families with grandchildren and spreadsheets to work out which child was going to be where on what day. This day seemed a safe distance from the turkey day but also close enough to still be part of the celebrations. One year, though, it got moved to Easter and we made it snow. The thing about extended family is that you don’t expect to see them all the time but you know that they are there. 

You’d meet at one of these gatherings and as you depart you’d suffer the hug and say, “Until the next wedding, funeral or Christmas. Whatever comes first,” hoping that it wouldn’t be a funeral because it would be better not to see them for a year than to have one missing at the next event. 

This 4th day of Cheesemas blog is dedicated to my Uncle Frank, who loved a wheel of brie and a whiskey. He didn’t quite make this his last Christmas and was an important part of my festive childhood. He and my dad were always in some kind of weird competition: Christmas Day lunches with my grandad, seeing who could walk the white line down the middle of the road (grandad couldn’t - fell off - had to go to A&E). Louder shouts of, “I grew that..” “I shot that…” with each mouthful of roast game bird or brussel sprout that went in your mouth. A joint competitiveness springing up to combine forces to cheat at monopoly, just to wind up our neighbour. The later gatherings, usually involved some kind of dressing up - a talent show or a play - anything to keep such a large and diverse bunch of people from talking politics and Frank would arrive with balloons up his jumper. 

Popping on some of mum’s perfume and visiting her sister for a condolence hug was the surprisingly enjoyable way I spent my 4th day of Cheesemas. When I got home I had cheesy chips and stalked the photo albums.