If you’re reading this, fair play to you - you’ve made it through Christmas, which is no mean feat given you’ve survived the annual assault of Quality Street wrappers, gallons of tea, and the marathon that is picking a film to fall asleep to before the opening credits are done.

From where I lie looking over my muffin-top jeans, the living room looks like the aftermath of a Twelfth parade, and I’d rather walk barefoot over the Giant’s Causeway than look at another stuffing sandwich. Still, that’s how you know you’ve done Christmas right, isn’t it?

I’m one of those softies who loves watching those heart-melting videos of strangers coming home to surprise their families, even if the thought of someone landing at my own door unannounced would have me running for cover. But sure, it’s nice to see folk happy.

What I really love about this time of year are those wee moments when you catch someone doing a good turn, especially from the ones you’d least expect. Like getting a Christmas card from your neighbour, even though you barely exchange a nod the rest of the year. But if you get a card from the grump next door - the one you thought wouldn’t know a joke if it bit them - and it reads, “We are the granddaughters of the grandmas that Santa’s reindeer couldn’t run over,” well, that’s Christmas squared in my book.