I WAS on a mission of mercy this week – for Father Christmas. The old chap was treble booked and as three of his bookings were near me, he asked if I would help out. How could I refuse?

Note to cynical grown-ups: this is my story and I’m sticking to it.

The first engagement was at a women’s group dinner in a village hall near Banbury. Exquisite food prepared on the premises. Noisy, but nothing naughty. No visit from a male stripper. They didn’t even ask to look under my beard.

Even the gifts were provided by the women themselves; one per member, neatly wrapped and dropped into my sack without any indication of which present should go to whom. My job was to hand them out and make sure no one received her own contribution.

Father Christmas would have found this easy. All I could do was trust to luck.

TWO days later saw me at a baby and toddler group with a dozen children ranging from six weeks to three years old.

There can be nothing more terrifying for a toddler than to be approached by some old chap shouting “Yo! Ho! Ho!” A diversion was needed. So I wore a horrendous tie bearing a picture of a red-nosed Father Christmas. At the press of a hidden button, the nose lit up, accompanied by screechy Christmas music. Those who could toddle queued and jostled to press that button. Inspirational, eh? I stayed for their picnic-style lunch. A pair of two-year-old girls, Bee and Nancy, appointed themselves minders, even selecting my food. The trouble was the stuff stuck in my beard and moustache.

THE third trip was to a school attended by a number of children I know. This was tricky, calling for subterfuge of the highest order. Some cocky kids would delight in exposing Father Christmas as an imposter.

The reception classes were no problem; there were one or two suspicious glances in middle school, but no shouts of “Fake!” The threat of exposure came from the top class. “Hi, Peter!” whispered one 10-year-old lad as he accepted his gift. His lips were barely apart and his lower jaw was drawn to one side, like the best TV villains. “I won’t tell – this time – but I hope I like my present,” he hissed.

Pointing out menaces with intent was frowned upon in decent company seemed futile.

HAVE a wonderful Christmas. Cabbages and Kings is having a week off, but will return on January 4. So enjoy New Year’s Eve as well.

Meanwhile, remember it’s a wonderful life, so enjoy it.