In the run up to Christmas last year my wife glanced at the calendar in the kitchen and noticed that I had scrawled in two or three places, 'The worst Christmas ever'.
It gave her quite a jolt. Worried that I was so disillusioned, she was extra nice to me (which I'm ashamed to say I never noticed) and rushed out to buy me extra presents. It wasn't until the final week that she discovered that the calendar entries were not grouchy comments, but reminders to watch a TV comedy called 'the Worst Christmas Ever'.
The programme wasn't that good as it happened, but Christmas, with all those extra presents, was just fine.