Step 1: Go out to collect turkey from poncy local farm shop with very small baby. Feed him first to allow at least 2.5 hours shopping time. Cut back on hair/make-up time in order to get out swiftly. So far, so organised.
Step 2: Important - remember shopping list but misplace it somewhere between kitchen and shop.
Step 3: Select a trolley with no wheel control. Try to push this and the pram in the same direction around tiny shop crowded with Boden and Jules-clad countryfolk.
Step 4: Decide on a buy-one-of-everything approach as shopping list still MIA. Spend at least £200 on festively-themed food stuffs.
Step 5: Queue for 25 minutes with an increasingly bored baby at the till. Request fellow queuers to make tutting noises of disapproval for allowing the poor baby to get so bored whilst the mother has a relaxing jaunt around this delightful shop.
Step 6: Make it back to the car with pram and purchases but fail to locate car keys. Spend five minutes in minus 8 degrees searching every pocket of every nappybag/handbag, only to find keys in coat pocket after all.
Step 7: Return to shop for an emergency coffee and second round of last-minute present buying. Make sure the baby starts crying as soon as you are trying to balance a tray full of coffee on the handle of the pram.
Step 8: Sit down amidst the pensioners and other peaceful farm shoppers with crying baby. Realise you have forgotten spoon for sugar. Drink coffee without sugar and try to ignore "poor baby must be hungry" and "neglectful mother" comments from OAPs.
Step 9: Commit fatal error of feeding baby early in order to silence critics/baby. Attempt discreet feeding in public whilst wearing three woolly jumpers and Barbour jacket. Fail (discreetly, of course) but give old geezer at the next table an eyeful of his early Christmas present.
Step 10: Omit to pack enough extra baby clothes to counter the ensuing post-prandial poo-tastrophe. Simulataneously discover the woeful inadequacy of shop baby-changing facility (too small for pram; too cold for naked babies). Baby should now be wailing and queue of other (happier) babies growing impatient.
Step 11: Decide to soldier on with present-buying nonetheless and carry baby over shoulder whilst pushing pram in lieu of trolley. Make sure you time the projectile puking so that you smear as many hand-painted trinkets as possible with sour milk as you walk past.
Step 12: Arrive at till (again) looking unkempt and covered in puke. Wait until you are at the front to discover it is cash only. Insist they let you pay by card, thus infuriating entire world by delaying them two whole seconds when really it is your festive duty to queue somewhere else for another half an hour. Dress baby in 25 layers of outdoor clothing, much to his displeasure, and leave shop.
Step 13: Repeat Step 6.
There you have it, ladies! Your transformation is complete. Alternatively, if you wish to retain Yummy status, stay at home with the baby and send your husband for the turkey.
