Why Doris Day really should have booked an Uber home...

It’s not really Christmas for me until I’ve belted out a bit of Slade and Wizzard and had a go at The Waitresses ‘Christmas Wrapping’ to see if I can remember all the words.

There are favourites, of course, and just as many others I always skip over. ‘The Little Boy That Santa Claus Forgot’ is just too sad for me, and I really can’t stomach that version of Band Aid where Sir Bob thought it would be a good idea to let Dizzee Rascale rap through the musical break. Bleurgh.

I also believe the saccharine ‘Lonely Pup in a Christmas Shop’ may well be solely responsible for the RSPCA being forced to warn that ‘a pet is for life and not just for Christmas.’

A new one this year though was the revelation that it’s taken 32 years for me to get a bit uncomfortable with the lyrics to Dean Martin’s ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside.’ Maybe it’s that I now have a daughter of my own, but I don’t think there can be any real doubt that the song - which has always been a favourite of mine, with it’s lilting melody and Dean Martin’s soft crooning tones mixing beautifully with the pretty purr of Doris Day’s comebacks - has some seriously worrying undertones.

‘I really can’t stay.’ The clue is in the very first line and, Doris, you should always trust your first instincts; they’re a girl’s best friend.

True, she herself is the first to admit that their evening together has been ‘so nice,’ but just why is Deano being so forceful in his persuasions to try and get her to stay? She’s clearly ready to call it a night and his talk of ‘what’s the sense in hurting my pride’ and ‘baby don’t hold out’ should be setting some severe alarm bells ringing in this nice girl’s head.

‘My mother will start to worry.’ And with very good reason I’d say. Just what did we do in the days before mobile phones and the Find My Friends app?

‘Say, what’s in this drink?’ Most likely a dose of Rohypnol. Grab your bag and head for the exit.

‘I wish I knew how to break this spell.’ Simple, never, never, NEVER take your eyes off a strange man who is pouring you a drink.

‘No cabs to be had out there.’ At this point I wouldn’t be taking this guy’s word for anything. Get Uber on the phone or call your poor dad for a lift; after all we know the poor man’s ‘pacing the floor’ as we speak. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to come and get you.

Shame on you Dean. Do as the lady says, lend her your coat and escort her home. After all, ‘the answer is no’ - what more do you need to hear?