Thing Probably Not To Do Today: worry.

What's the use of worrying?

It never was worthwhile. So!

Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag and

Smile smile smile.

That's a First World War trenches song, and now I've typed it out I've realised that it makes my point completely.

So: those of us not in imminent danger of death, please stop worrying. It doesn't matter if your brussels are soggy, your potatoes under-done and your turkey tasteless: that's how you can tell it's Christmas, after all.

Yes, your relations are revolting and your friends exhausted to the point of insanity; and yes, Uncle Barry won't like his present (always give soap to the Uncle Barrys - at least it puts a stop to their saying I've got no use for that) but, hey, make a chart and award yourself a star for every hour you get through without actually saying what you think.

Because of course if you do say what you think, then you'll be spending next Christmas worrying about how to cook a turkey for one.

What's the use of worrying?

It never was worthwhile...

...unless you plan to catch your turkey with your bare mouth, naturally. Worrying in this sense means to kill by biting and shaking. I can't say I recommend that, either; nor indulging in the sword-fighting sort of worrying, which is a quick series of pretend thrusts.

In fact the only sort of worrying I can recommend is an obscure type which involves hugging or kissing vehemently.

It's what mistletoe's for, after all.

Thing Probably Not To Do Today: worry. The anxiety meaning of worry is only a couple of hundred years old, but the killing-by-biting meaning can be traced right back to 725. It comes from the Old Frisian wergia, to kill, and before that from the Old Norse urga, which means rope.