In the kitchen your mother is loading leftovers into Tupperware and tins into a makeshift hamper. “Will you help me with this darling”, she says. “I’m taking it all down to the church hall, where we’re handing out food to the poor and hungry”.
Of course you will. Never mind all the bickering, this is your chance to do a good Christmas deed, unpolluted by political point-scoring, with your decent and moral lovely mum.
“Unfortunately”, she adds, “…there will be some dirty foreigners there, the workshy scrounging scum”