My innate cynicism usually takes a one-month hiatus about now. The first sight of a turkey and cranberry sandwich in the supermarket chiller sets that sentimental streak in motion. I don’t mind admitting it. My image of Christmas is framed by two well-known US brands. One sells soft drinks and the other claims to do a line in dreams and magic. I’m not going to play it cool. I was more excited than my six-year-old daughter, Aoibhy, by a three-day trip to Disneyland Paris.
