As one who has always bought the presents, wrapped them up and done everything else at Christmas, I just have to share this short poem I've received in my email.
To dispense with the myth of Father Christmas:
WHERE ART THOU, MOTHER CHRISTMAS
Where art thou, Mother Christmas?
I only wish I knew
Why Father should get all the praise
And no one mentions you
I'll bet you buy the presents
And wrap them large and small
While all the time that rotten swine
Pretends he's done it all.
So Hail To Mother Christmas
Who shoulders all the work!
And down with Father Christmas,
That unmitigated jerk!
