CHRISTMAS Day is great for kids, but for grown-ups the days just after are the best.

Generally, the time between Christmas and New Year gets a bad rap, which is unfair. Don't get me started on the first week in May, but the last days of the year are a real highlight. Piles of booze and chocolate gifts are still under the tree, the fridge is stuffed with cheese and processed meat and the generic television recording device is brimming with unwatched comedic panel show Christmas specials and James Bond films.

Skyfall is a great film made all the better for the spot the product placement game you can play throughout. Sony, Heineken, BMW and Elijah Allen are just some of the big brands who paid millions to have their products on show. I'm not sure why Hawes-based Elijah Allen bothered as their rich fruit cake could not be more addictive if it was fed each week with a glug of crystal meth.

I wasn't sure whether to eat it with a little bit of Wensleydale cheese or heat it up on a spoon and inject it into my forearm. OK, Elijah Allen didn't feature in Skyfall, but it would be great if film producers could choose one independent supplier or producer to feature free of charge each blockbuster, just to balance all that greedy, corporate sell you something when you're guard is down nonsense.

"What would you like to drink, Mr Bond?"

"Ooh, I'll have a pint of Askrigg Ale please."

"Shaken not stirred?"

"I'll shake and stir you if you do either pal."

The days after Christmas are not without their challenges, however, as I've come to realise that looking after overexcited children is far more tiring than work.

Once I spent a 14-hour day scouring the Northumberland countryside for a maniac gunman, only to arrive home, turn on the television and discover that the maniac had appeared about 20 yards from where I ate my sarnies that lunchtime, and Gazza had arrived with a bucket of fried chicken and a fishing rod.

That day was quite tiring, but not nearly as tiring as spending time with a two-year-old who has a talent for furniture free climbing and a hatred of her brother's Lego structures being lovingly created on the kitchen table.