2. 200 toilet rolls. The dullest gift ever, perhaps, but not having to buy any for a year or so would be swell.
3. A flesh-coloured umbrella so I can sew the DAMN THING to my skin if that’s what it takes to stop me losing it.
4. As above for my gloves, phone, house keys and Tesco Clubcard.
5. A smartphone that stays charged for more than ten minutes.
6. Every single birthday, Christmas and congratulations for getting a job/car/wife card I need to send next year; written, addressed and stamped, and with alarms set in my phone to remind me when to post them.
7. A mascara that beeps when it disappears under the bed, into my underwear drawer, down the toilet or wherever the hell it goes every morning when I’m trying to make myself look presentable.
8. A device that will tell me all the ingredients I’ve already got at home when I’m in the supermarket and losing the will to live.
9. A television that looks different to each viewer, for example, my husband would see FIFA 14 and The Walking Dead, whilst I would see Coronation Street and Boyzone at 20. (You might think it would be simpler to just get a second television but we live in a one-bedroom London flat and there is not room; the TV we have already doubles up as a dining table.)
10. 365 Cadbury’s Boosts. That should see me through at least half of 2014.
11. Eyebrows that don’t require 24-hour care. Or otherwise enchanted tweezers that can sort them out when I’m asleep and give me my life back.
12. The Dawson’s Creek box set. Nobody is going to buy me that.
13. A robotic laundry basket that will walk downstairs, empty itself into the washing machine and identify the appropriate setting of its own accord. (If it would also come back to empty the machine and pop everything on the rack too that would be ace but I realise that’s a big ask.)
14. Tights so thick it’s like wearing three pairs at once. The combined squeeze of three waistbands is rather uncomfortable.
15. A year’s worth of internet-ready, ROFL-worthy blog posts so I can go back to spending Sunday afternoons like I used to – either eating, shopping or repeatedly avoiding doing the gardening.
Merry Christmas readers!