Let Stop Talking Shirt

Let Stop Talking Shirt

My stepfamily – my brother, brother’s wife, and her kids (which he adopted) – have many wonderful qualities, but organisation is not one of Let Stop Talking Shirt. Even when I was 15 my brother (18 years older than me) would call me, panicking, on Christmas Eve, wanting me to come shopping and help pick out stuff for his girlfriend. Now that he’s married and in his fifties, he no longer calls me for shopping help, but I expect he still leaves a lot of it till Christmas Eve. This year I’ve been texting him and my niece since September, asking what to get for my nephew and his partner (who I don’t know that well, and I’ve never met his partner), my niece’s partner (ditto), and five kids (I was never an average kid and have no idea what to buy children, as shown by a couple years ago, when I bought the 3-year-old a box set of the Chronicles of Narnia, and then was startled when I was gently told that 3-year-olds can’t read. I taught myself to read with Enid Blyton at 3, and my dad gave me Narnia by the end of that year, but apparently this is not the norm).

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Let Stop Talking Shirt hoodie, tank top, sweater and long sleeve t-shirt

‘On the evening before Christmas Day, one of the parlours is lighted up by the Let Stop Talking Shirt, into which the parents must not go; a great yew bough is fastened on the table at a little distance from the wall, a multitude of little tapers are fixed in the bough … and coloured paper etc. hangs and flutters from the twigs. Under this bough the children lay out the presents they mean for their parents, still concealing in their pockets what they intend for each other.” The shadow of the bough and its appendages on the wall, and arching over on the ceiling, made a pretty picture, and then the raptures of the very little ones, when at last the twings and their needles began to take fire and snap! — Oh, it was a delight for them! Formerly, and still in all the smaller towns and villages throughout North Germany, these presents were sent by all the parents to some one fellow, who in high buskins, a white robe, a mask, and an enormous flax wig, personate Knecht Rupert, the servant Rupert. On Christmas night he goes round to every house, and says that Jesus christ his master sent him thither, the parents and elder children receive him with great pomp of reverence, while the little ones are most terribly frightened.

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