I’m not saying that Boris Johnson is in for a disturbed night, but three ghosts have just been seen entering 10 Downing Street…

I must admit to not being a fan of the Christmas television advert from John Lewis this year. I haven’t got anything against cute dragons and ginger haired children. What I have taken issue with, is the tagline behind the campaign.

“Show them how much you care”. It feels to be one step away from a spoilt teenager, shouting abuse at his parents for not buying him a £500 iPad for Christmas – “if you loved me, you’d get me one!”.

Admittedly, the advert isn’t as harsh as your typical adolescent, stereotyped by Harry Enfield; but the message it is clearly telling us, is damning – if we wish to show love for our family and friends, the best way to do so is to spend money, and lots of it. Presumably only at John Lewis or Waitrose. Buying gifts from anywhere else is as mean and unfestive as slamming your front door in the face of five-year-old carol singers and eating your kids’ selection boxes.

The advert feels as if it must be a real kick in the teeth for many parents, who dedicate their lives to their children, every day of the year. Many will no doubt feel under even more pressure than normal to spend money they don’t have, because failure to do so clearly means that they don’t care enough for their kids. Quick! Somebody call social services – Timmy’s mum and dad only bought him a £100 Fire Tablet. No iPad? That’s child abuse at its worse.

I would like to think that parents – and anyone for that matter – will realise that it is possible to show someone how much you care, by hugging them (free), telling them that you love them (free), or simply by spending time together (free).

If you think those suggestions are crap, then you can always spend half a grand on a tablet.

I am sure you are wondering, with Christmas less than three weeks away, how I am going to cope with sourcing presents, given the fact that I am bedridden with two broken arms.

Thankfully, I am one of few men on this planet, who is actually organised with Christmas shopping. Each year, I try to get all of my Santa duties finished by the start of November.

Admittedly, performing my James Bond impression and leaping from a speeding mobility scooter, subsequently shattering 75% of my major limbs, did mean that a very small amount of the shopping had to wait until my hospital discharge. The most important thing is that everything has now been purchased.

Unlike many people, I actually enjoy Christmas shopping. I must be in the minority, who does not find it a stressful and terrifying experience. Buying every single gift online, as opposed to the hellish high street, certainly helped.

What I do find a harrowing ordeal, each year, is not the present buying, but the wrapping bit. I am hopeless at it. Not only because my handling of the wrapping paper and sticky tape is so bad, that any gift I do give looks like it is from a dog, but because I easily tire of the whole thing, far preferring to watch a bit of telly or make a cup of coffee.

I have managed to find one positive about my terrible injuries – getting out of doing the present wrapping! I am certainly going to ensure that I enjoy this shameful shirking of responsibility, as I know that I’ll be forced back into this mundane chore next December.

My wonderful wife, Claire, has volunteered to wrap all my presents! Compared to my usual efforts, all the gifts I give to loved ones this year, will be so beautifully presented, that nobody will believe that they’re from me.

I am sure that some of you have already thought of the flaw in my ingenious plan – if Claire is wrapping everyone’s gifts, who will be preparing hers? Well that’s simple – I haven’t got her anything. OK, clearly that’s a joke. I fully intend to shower my wonderful wife with all manner of presents.

Luckily, kindness must run in her family, as my mother and father-in-law have already offered to wrap everything I have bought for Claire.

I am clearly very grateful for this gesture, but also relieved that I haven’t bought my wife any saucy gifts. I would feel rather awkward asking them to wrap gifts for their daughter, which include props from Fifty Shades of Grey, edible knickers and pink fluffy handcuffs. Not that I would ever buy Claire such things for Christmas – I had already given them to her as birthday presents…

Meanwhile, here is a photo of a pressie bought for me. Looks like a great gift for a guy with one broken leg and two shattered arms…