THERE comes a time when answering the question: “What do you want for Christmas, Dad?” becomes difficult.

Shirts you have a-plenty; toiletries are falling dangerously from the bathroom cabinet while you have more extravagantly coloured socks – mostly chosen by a younger grandsons – than a centipede could wear in a month of Sundays.

“A book would be nice,” you say only to hear your daughter mumble “not another Alan Bennett Diaries”.

You protest that you have wider tastes than AB and a grandson confirms this.

“He likes PG Wodehouse, you know,” he announces with more than a hint of sarcasm.

“I’ll show ‘em,” you vow to yourself and head for Waterstone’s, Blackwell’s, WH Smith’s or some other book shop of repute so you can suggest a tome to one of the clan.

But beware, reading reviews long or short can have an adverse effect on any choice. I will not name the book or author, but this week its recommendation reads as follows:

“If you read one book this year make it this one. It will break your heart....render you speechless, angry and leave you sobbing,” finally adding it will also leave the reader a better person.

That is unless he or she cuts his or her throat before the final chapter.

Vintage PG Wodehouse seems more to my liking for Christmas reading.

* FAR be it for me to boast but the Christmas cards have been written and despatched well in advance – the latter despite the dwindling number of staff behind our towns’ post office counters.

But as ever an unexpected card arrived from a source you couldn’t fob off with one from the 10 for 99p range.

As I was in Oxford I went to a well-known shop in the Covered Market which simply bulges with splendid cards.

Unfortunately the first to come into vision bore the words: “Have an utterly AWESOME CHRISTMAS and a totally top new year.”

One from the 10 for 99p box didn’t seem too bad after that loathsome jargon.

* NO-ONE would ever accuse the Playhouse Theatre of allowing the dust to gather under its seats.

I popped in on Tuesday morning just to see a legion of small children heading to the lavatories at the matinee interval – one-way traffic a must.

Waiting for a break in the line, I spotted a large notice advising that it was never too soon to make arrangements for next year’s pantomime, Jack and the Beanstalk.

Wishing time away? It’s enough to make this year’s Cinderella rush from the palace ball believing the ugly sisters had won top prize.

Which would be a pity because this year’s production is something not to miss.