Blogging to make me feel better

That's the idea anyway.

Never for a moment did I think that, in my adult life, a bag of gold coins would reduce me to tears in Tesco.

But it did.

The sight of that little net filled with fake bling made me weep so hard that I almost left the store without my £4.99 bottle of Shiraz.

And here's the really pathetic bit - the reason why.

The coins are what I found at the bottom of my red football sock that he'd romantically filled up for me during our first Christmas together.

No traditional stocking was ever complete without a satsuma, 50p and a bag of chocolate coins he used to say.

And that's where I also found the only cuddly toy I own - a little tiger with big, green eyes that I named  after the amazing Ravi Shankar - and he sits, to this day, on my bedside cabinet.

Because that's as girlie as I get, you see.

And that's probably as romantic as our Christmases ever got.

Ever since, all the festivities have been fraught with tension and fall-outs - a series of misunderstandings year after year.

I would like to have experienced another together and I had been convinced that this year was going to be different... our best yet.

But now that mummy definitely won't be kissing Santa Claus, at least she's started her Christmas shopping.

I couldn't quite bring myself to buy those chocolate coins though.