Please help me.
It was the Christmas of 1992. Mr Blobby was the funniest thing on television (according to your parents), and Whitney Houston had been tricked into singing a love song about everyone’s favourite sentient cardigan, Kevin Costner (I feel like I’m having a war flashback now).
And me? Well, I was having a great time despite all of this, actually. Because Santa had done me a massive solid.
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