Every year I beg my mother to make me a christmas cake. Every year, after moaning and threatening not to, she makes me the cake.
Every year as she gives me the cake, she warns me that I'm not to eat it until the week before Christmas and ONLY WHEN YOU HAVE GUESTS MEGAN. Every year I scoff it down so fast that there is no chance it will survive longer than, ahem, late November (maybe).
This year she got cunning. She texted Jules and told him that she'd given me the cake and that I was not allowed to touch it, NOT EVEN IF SHE SAYS IT'S AN EMERGENCY.
What she doesn't know is that Jules has left me alone with it. Mwahahahahaha.