Driven to distraction

Or should I say, distraction whilst driving! I love Christmas, I love the Christmas lights, I love the cold nights and snuggling up on the sofa. It’s even been said, that I quite like driving. That is when I’m not being distracted by the kids killing each other. Most parents will know how difficult it is to drive when you have kids in the car. They are actually No: 4 in the Causes of distracted driving. But of a December evening, there is something out there that distracts me even more than my kids.

It causes me to hate driving on a December evening!

The reason? Because of all the lights.  All those pretty, sparkling lights. It’s not that I hate the lights. It’s that I love the lights! I want to look at all the lights. When actually what I should be doing is looking at the road. So I can’t look at all these lights, twinkling away, because I have to concentrate on driving.

It occurred to me, that what I need for the month of December is a chauffeur, but unfortunately I am my kids chauffeur. So I need someone else to drive me around so that I can look at all those lights that I’m missing out on. So I can peak into people’s houses and look at their Christmas trees.

Immerse myself in my childhood memories, going back to when I was a very little girl, and we would be driving back from my nana’s houses with my family. From mid-December we would play the game of spot the Christmas tree. Back then it was rare to see a Christmas tree prior to that point, you didn’t have the lights that everyone has now, so you would have to peak through the curtains to catch a glimpse of the tree sat in the bay window. Now a days you have houses light up, with spectacular displays of lights, or elegant garlands wrapped round windows, doors or the eaves.

I want to relive that childhood memory and get back that excitement I used to have as a child, sat in the car, trying to spot that first Christmas tree. Which always meant that Christmas would soon be here.

So if anyone would like to drive me round to look at the lights, I’m open.

Unfortunately the only payment they would get would be to hear my squeals of excitement at the lights, like a crowd at a firework display.

Elouise Sims

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