CHRISTMAS is doing my head in. There are too many presents to buy, too many cards to send and too much aggravation.

I'm one of these people who just hate going shopping, while Mrs Editor's Chair has reduced it to an art form.

We can spend hours in town centres looking for gifts, which then have to be returned because they are not right.

I thought we'd cracked it earlier this month though, when I bought my son a super present from Marks and Spencer. It was something I knew he'd like and I was delighted, for the first time ever, that I'd got something in advance and could relax for the rest of the month Sadly, when we got the thing home and examined it, there was a flaw.

So I humped it back to M&S and asked for a replacement. No such luck the present was such a good one they had completely sold out and there were no deliveries expected.

The order desk took me through a long list of Marks & Spencers that had this toy. Naturally, none of them were local or convenient for me.

Eventually, I managed to reserve one at Harrow, a place I once went many years ago, and which sounded reasonably near.

But I chickened out of driving out of Bucks and sent my pensioner father instead.

He came back with the present and then we had to go back into another shopping centre to get a refund on the flawed one we'd bought earlier.

However, so much time had been taken up by this one present that we'd forgotten about the rest of my family.

To my delight, I then found the perfect game for my 12-year-old nephew. It involves picking the nose of a toy head. If you get it right, you win; if you're wrong, the head blows up.

I was thrilled, because I'd never heard of this before. But moments after I bought it, I called my sister and discovered the boy already had the nose-picking game.

So I had to return it and get a refund, even before I'd stepped out of the shop.

As a result, there's still a long list of presents I haven't had time to buy. The shops will probably all be sold out by next weekend, so I'll have to give money.

But the problem with money, is you just can't give £6.99 it has to be at least a tenner each, it doesn't go on your credit card and you still end up looking mean.

I had more luck with Mrs Editor's Chair's gift, although it was a hollow victory because doubtless it's the wrong present and she will return it. I carefully chose an item and generously lavished a decent amount of money on it.

But the salesgirl unexpectedly told me, as she processed it through the till, that it was actually on special offer and massively cheaper than she had thought.

So I saved a packet of cash, but I'm not celebrating. It means that if Mrs Ed's Chair returns it, she'll only be able to get a packet of chewing gum and a bottle of orange juice in exchange, and once again I'll look cheap.

I should just copy what one of my aunties did every Christmas. Each year, she sent me a pair of carefully-wrapped underpants.

I was never exactly thrilled but I ended up with a continual supply of freshly-ironed multi-coloured underwear as a result. It probably made me the man I am today.

So I'm going to do the same for my family.

Any relative reading this column today can now officially learn that my Christmas present to them is going to be pants.