Here we go again or do we?

Let me paint the picture first. The artist is standing by the mounted board screwed to the wall to my right while working away at the surface - top left-hand corner: intricately shadowed light on a tall flat wall - with a stiff neck and concentrated mind. The artist's son who is on the floor is for some reason sticking a plastic giraffe's neck between the two short plastic hind legs of his toy elephant, while remaining crouched behind the bright red sofa like a cowboy by a rock. The daughter meanwhile has a cold, bless her, and is sitting thoughtfully on the sofa watching TV having just served everyone uncomplainingly with bowls of hand-scooped ice cream. Anyway, I've just had my first whiff of what I suddenly realise is now fast approaching us. It came in the mildly predictable shape of a TV commercial advertising a familiarly coloured and not exactly unfamous tin of sweets. (I would open such a tin myself as a boy each year and hand it around the room always beginning with my grandmother.) Both children looked at me eagerly. (I am presently typing away at the round table.) Let there be tin, they seemed to be saying. Let there be tin. Now, to be honest, I've always looked upon this approaching time of year as something other people enjoy. Not as a spoilsport. Not as some cynic. Or killjoy. Simply as someone who as a child was always made aware each year of that thankfully uncommon gap where parents really should be. This time however, a few moments ago, that first whiff of the year felt different. I realised I didn't want to be like a gap, too. Not there in spirit in other words. It felt like I had made in seconds that leap from my own kind of caramelised reflection and deference for my parents, into the full blast of just how it should be for our children. Exciting. Special. Gift-laden. Warm. As I listen to the artist's hand still working away at the board, I even forget I was angry with her earlier for being honest enough to have expressed her frustration rather than bottling it in. Now I just want to make this for the artist and the children a great time of year. While the artist has always known how to go about this, I am still learning. So they may have to be patient with me. However, the key I think is to tone down the personal commemorations and get on with the show. (It's still too commercial, though.)