As is the case for many, we have normal enough Christmas traditions like watching favourite movies.
We have our must-watches of It's a Wonderful Life, Elf, Home Alone and A Very Murray Christmas. And we leave room for newcomers.
This year's discoveries were that Klaus is great and National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation is dated, awful and never to be watched again.
We have other traditions like forcing nieces and nephews (now mostly young adults) to dance to Michael Bublé before they're allowed to open presents or trying to guess Denis Walter's age during Carols by Candlelight.
But I humbly submit a stranger Christmas tradition - naming the ham.
This idea of bestowing a name on special occasion meats belongs to my daughter, who as a toddler nursed on the drive home from the pub a huge pork roast meat tray won in a raffle.
She named it Big Buddy. The next time we won it was Mr Meat.
So it follows that each year when it's our job to glaze the ham for the big family do, it too needs a name.
During the pandemic, the monnikers reflected the grim times.
We had Hamaggedon in 2020, followed the next year by Hamicron - the latter sadly never even made it from our kitchen as that summer wave stuffed all our plans at the last minute.
Last year was a full-scale return to Granddad's house and so Feliz-ham-at-Da's was a very clever and popular choice.
This year, the name will again reflect happier times. And the girl who christened Big Buddy is the chief pollster in the family group chat.
Thursday was the ideas-harvesting stage. During a meeting, my phone started pinging with suggestions. Musicians and rappers (Piggy Stardust, Snoop Hoggie Hog, MC Ham-mer, Cracklemore) were all good. Political suggestions were funny but dire (David Porkock, Peter Dutt-ham, Hamthony Hamthonese).
None made the short list though.
Of those in the running for this honour, Ham Solo has been popular, especially with the Gen Zs. The Star Wars link seems obvious, but one of the mums argued quite convincingly her 20-year-old just had too much Hard Solo on his brain.
In the end, it will come down to Amy Swinehouse (RIP), Glaze of Thunder, and Porkin' down the street (an inside family joke - at my expense - I would be too mortified to properly explain).
Voting is still underway as I write. The named ham will be placed on the kitchen bench with some dramatic flourish.
I'll gladly take suggestions for next year's vote. And surely we're not the only family with weird Christmas traditions? Let us know in the comments below.
