During a phone call with my seven-year-old niece, Luna, three weeks ago, she cleverly manoeuvred our conversation to Christmas – and, in particular, to the subject of presents. ‘Auntie Kate, have you ever been to Sephora?’ she asked. ‘I went the other day. Daddy took me. I loved it.’.
![[My nieces Olivia, 13, Kitty, two and Ottie, six in front of a Christmas tree. At this time of year aunts, uncles and godparents who are seen as ever-dependable Santas with bottomless bank accounts]](https://i.dailymail.co.uk/1s/2024/12/22/01/93393915-14218083-image-a-124_1734831046654.jpg)
She then reeled off a list of expensive Sephora skincare products she wanted me to buy her. I then heard her older sister, Ruby, in the background suggesting that a £50 voucher to use at its online beauty and make-up shop – which is currently all the rage on TikTok – might be a nice festive gift for them both.
Then there was some polite negotiation about the precise amount that Auntie Kate might spend. Since it’s an auntie’s prerogative to spoil her nieces and nephews, inevitably, I set off to London’s Westfield shopping centre (and one of Sephora’s seven actual shops in the country) to buy their gift cards.
Ottie, six and I. Christmas as an auntie of with six nieces and four nephews is an expensive business. Ruby, nine, and Luna are just two of my six nieces and four nephews. Yes, Christmas as an auntie is an expensive business. Indeed, Ottie, six, enjoys telling her friends: ‘My Auntie Kate has lots of money in her bank account.’.
Don’t get me wrong. I love spoiling them all. Nothing makes me happier than buying them birthday and Christmas presents or, frankly, anything they ask me for. But spare a thought, at this time of year, for those of us aunts, uncles and godparents who are seen as ever-dependable Santas with bottomless bank accounts.
