This year, Christmas for me has been (will be) more about driving the car rather than being a passenger.
Every year we travel to the same, familiar destination, but when you’re the passenger you don’t pay much attention to how you get from A to B, but when you’re the driver you have to look at the map and check you really do know how to get there. You have to listen for news of road works or deviations that might throw you off course; you have to think about the needs of other passengers. Perhaps this sign that I saw in a central London shop window expresses some of the mild panic involved in being the designated driver. But it would be more helpful if it said: Jesus, Christmas is coming, what do you want us to do?