My daughter keeps calling me Scrooge. It may be something to do with her Xmas list getting longer and my fuse getting shorter. It may be my not taking The X-Factor Final seriously. It could be the inability to recognise the reciprocal expectations of the Xmas card lark - or the Biblical swearing - or the GBH on the BFG outside the BHS.
And then today - it snowed.
What happy little rosy faces. Tongues peeking out to taste a transient flake. Pure innocent delight in pure heavenly white.