Christmas shopping is, as we all know, an invention of the devil, designed to create in otherwise gentle souls an abiding hatred for all things associated with the baby Jesus.

But how on earth can you avoid it?

One answer might be to suddenly develop a debilitating illness with no physical symptoms: agaraphobia springs, quite literally, to mind.

If you can't leave the house, you can't shop. It's that simple.

Eventually, insist on bravely making an accompanied journey outside, collapsing at the nearest BP garage. Here, buy a selection of ice scrapers, safety triangles and replacement wipers for your nearest and dearest before returning to the security of the sofa.

After all, it's the thought that counts.