I can't remember anything else about Christmas 1976 apart from those wretched handcuffs. They were part of a cowboy outfit someone had given me. In those days toy guns were heavy, solid and made of metal and probably quite dangerous in the wrong hands. The toy handcuffs were pretty realistic too. Not like the plastic ones you get today. They were big chunky uncomfortable die-cast things which locked with a key, just the sort of thing you'd expect a two year old to lose.

Of course I didn't spend the whole day pleading for my release. Just long enough for a photo opportunity it seems.

I remember that one year all of my friends were getting brand new BMXs (the Raleigh 'After Burner' was very vogue round our way), so I dropped the appropriate number of hints, making sure that my parents knew which colour was my favourite (apropos of nothing, of course).

Christmas day rolled around, and as thrilled as I was with my Star Wars figures, and Quality Street Assortment in a tin, my main present of a jacket, scarf and glove set wasn't exactly all that I'd hoped for.

Anyhoo, on Boxing day I stood around wrapped up to the nines outside as my mates all tried (and failed spectacularly) to do bunny hops and the like. A couple of them were even good enough to let me have a go on their bikes. By the 27th, they were all stuck in with colds and chills. I guess sometimes you get what you want. And sometimes you get what you need.

With thanks to the philosopher Jagger for the punchline!

Xmas Greeting earthlings.

I could post a photo of my Xmas gift from hell, but it's X rated. My Uncle Alan once gave me a lovely zig zag pattern acrylic 'zipped cardigan' when I was 7 years old. The photo really would put you off your sprouts.

So instead as some say my son looks just like me.....

For those have not had the pleasure of my company, this is exactly as I looked when I was the same age... except I was probably wearing a flared trouser suit as it was 1972.

For a Christmas consultation in full Santa outfit, get in early to avoid the rush !!

Keep up the good work BlueLeaf.

Forget Hatton Vs Mayweather...
It was Christmas Time in the early 1990's and that meant only one thing: My Granddad was coming to stay! All the usual Christmas preparation was done, putting up the tree, wrapping up presents, buying a bird-flu free Turkey (easier done then than now), but there was other, more unusual preparations to do: Training.

Oh yes, it was the annual Giant Hayseed Versus Bert Aserati Wrestling match, me against my Granddad (I was Giant and he was Bert). It was the highlight of Christmas as it meant my dear Granddad was in town and all the fun and games that went with it: the odd sock wearing; the silly notes I wrote for him on post-it pads all around the house (which he has kept to this day); the making of fangs from Cracker lining at the Christmas Dinner table... Everything!

Of course, despite it being just for fun, I would usually end up in tears but I wouldn't have had my childhood Christmas any other way!

I have two really strong Christmas memories amongst many happy ones. My parents were shopkeepers and my early years were spent living above the shop. Late one Christmas eve, just as they were about to close up shop, my mother joked that she needed a tall woman to walk through the door and purchase the one remaining coat they had, some gloves and several food items including a Chrismas pudding and what was left of our home cured ham etc. Sure enough, a woman rushed in, clasping handfulls of notes and said she needed everything for Christmas. My parents filled a large box with not just food but toys and pretty much all they had left. She also bought the coat. This was in the 60s when no shops were open over Christmas and we always wondered about her and why she nearly had nothing for Christmas and then where the money came from?

My other memory is when my grandma was very ill and remained in bed all Christmas. My sister was given the job of carrying her Christmas meal upstairs on a tray and tripped on the last carpet rod. The entire dinner, complete with homemade turkey soup went up the walls and dripped off the ceiling. My sister locked herself sobbing into the toilet and my mother went sobbing into the back garden. I had to clean up. My father had to coax my mother back and sister out of the loo. My grandma was hungry and unhappy. I think we ate about 2 hours later. Happy days!

A Merry Christmas to you all,
I'm the stepfather of Anna your production Manager and four years ago bought her mother a new Mercedes SLK Convertible for Christmas which was ready for collection in late November. I thought in my infinite wisdom it would be nice for her to collect the car as a surprise early Christmas present. At the garage she turned up her nose and said "Does this mean I don't get anything on Christmas Day?" I bought her a cheese grater.
I've tried to warn Mike my son in law, he's such a nice guy he doesn't deserve the possibilities of things to come!!!!!
Have a prosperous New Year.
Len Cooke.

I am the mum of your Production Manager who found her presents under my bed and to say I was upset is an understatement!! I can only say that, in her defence, she is a 'chip off the old block' as I did the same when I was a child (I think it must be a 'girl' thing). I found a beautiful large wooden xylophone in the bottom of my mum's wardrobe and was convinced it was for me. Unfortunately the lucky recipient was my cousin David.

I don't really have a funny story from my childhood Christmases, but I get so excited about it that I always get up and have to be sick on Christmas morning. I am 33 and a half years old.

I bought my brother some chocolates for Christmas but as we were only young and he had a habit of finding his presents I hid them on top of the wardrobe where he couldn't even climb up to reach them. The problem was that as I knew they were there I was tempted to have one of them. They were in a tin (Quality Street) so I popped it open when he wasn't about and took one of my favourites. The problem was that over the next couple of weeks I just had one several times to the point that when I came to give him the present I had eaten over half of the tin. He ended up with a few coffee ones in the bottom by the time I gave it to him on Christmas Day.

One ex-boyfriend bought me a season ticket for Manchester City one year, a generous gift you might think, until you know that I have always hated football and he only bought it me so he would have someone to entertain his son who used to get bored at the games.