Recently I have come to the conclusion that Christmas isn't the same as it used to be. The reason for this was due to this thing called 'growing up'.

I remember when I was little that I would spend Christmas Eve restless with excitement, checking and double checking that Santa's treats were of a good quality and conveniently located for him and his reindeer friends.

Sadly, I seem to have neglected this duty over the past few years, being more concerned with discussing Christmas plans with my friends or catching some festive episodes of my favourite series.

After waking (to my parent's delight) at an ungodly, early hour on Christmas Day, my brother and I would hurry them downstairs to see, to our wide-eyed amazement, a generous bag of presents each under the tree.

Although mum would try and get us to eat breakfast before opening our gifts, her efforts would always be in vain. Surrounded by our presents at opposite sides of the room, the frenzied unwrapping would commence, not knowing what we would discover under the paper. The same would happen at both of our grandparents' houses that day.

Now, however, we wake up late on Christmas Day, already having received our few, rather extortionately-priced presents before the day and finding the rest of Christmas long, gluttonous and ultimately boring.

The final indicator that I have outgrown the magical Christmas of days gone past is the emergence of the festive adverts in early autumn. As a young child, the first glimpse of sparkle would set the ball of excitement rolling whilst my dad would grumpily complain that it was far too early for Christmas. We used to call him Scrooge and laugh.

Now, I'm afraid, I am probably the first one to complain about Christmas in September.

Gone, for me, are the days of magic, wonder and a vast pile of presents. On their way are the days of viewing Christmas as the period of over-indulgence in food and alcohol and, not to mention, a massive strain on the purse strings.

Charlotte Wilson, 17, King's Lynn