My wife has had a lifetime to get used to the fact that her birthday falls on Christmas Day.

She is quite relaxed about something that some might find a tad annoying, especially if you are the only member of the household who is capable of presenting anything remotely resembling a Christmas dinner.

So she spends a significant amount of her birthday slaving away in the kitchen and invariably producing a superb feast for me and our four daughters, who still return to the fold for the festive day.

Mind you, only one of them has actually moved out into a home of her own, so it’s not much of a return to the fold. In that respect it’s less of a fold and more of a luxury hotel.

Every year I accept that it may be the last time that we six spend that exclusive time together; so far they seem to want to hang on to the tradition. Certainly, I have no wish to compel the unwilling to spend a reluctant day en famille. I have seen many examples elsewhere over the years of how painful and unlovely that can be.

I freely admit that my desire for family exclusivity is partly based on the fact that I am invariably only free on the actual day itself – being a regular panto performer and therefore obliged to twinkle-twinkle on stage somewhere on both Christmas Eve and Boxing Day – usually a theatre’s most popular shows.

At Baker Towers we divide the day in two. The morning is my wife’s birthday and the rest of the day is Christmas. So birthday presents in the morning and the Christmas exchange of gifts is in the afternoon/evening.

Although, my daughters, all of whom are in their twenties, insist on leaving mince pies and refreshments for Santa who therefore is still obliged to treat them as little children and provide a stocking full of goodies for early morning excitement and jollity.

My stories of a childhood where I thought myself lucky if I got an apple studded with cloves (which I dislike intensely) and a piece of wood and a whittling knife to make myself a toy invariably fall upon deaf ears.

But as I have to reluctantly acknowledge that I have more Christmases behind me than ahead – each one becomes even more precious. Do all have a peaceful and happy one yourselves.