Walking two steps in front, I pretend not to notice the crazy woman behind me who is seemingly intent on humming 'jingle bells' and wearing her bright red hat, so of course she stuck out like a sore thumb. This woman was my mother. Just two minutes beforehand, whilst walking past the familiar scene of 'Santa's grotto', my mum proudly announced to my friends, that I'd been visiting every year since I had been born, without fail. Beaming like an idiot at me, I felt the world close in around me.
My friends snorted behind gloved fingers and I was torn between upsetting my crazy jingle-bell-whistling mother (tempting, considering the circumstances) or nodding along like one of Santa's obedient elves.