I do a lot of good work for charity, obviously, but I don't like to talk about it. Fortunately though, blog posts are a different matter entirely, so here's the Christmas box Lisa and I have lovingly (and, let's face it, generously) prepared for an underpriveleged child this festive season. It's what Madonna would have done if she'd had the money. We're taking part in Operation Christmas Child, which sounds like a fun board game, but is in fact a scheme where you fill a shoebox with knick-knacks and send it to Africa. Knowing Lisa as I do, getting our hands on a shoebox was never going to be a problem, so we thought we'd have a go.

Rules state that your box mustn't contain knives or anything of a political or racial nature, so we left out the machete and swastika, and went instead with a cuddly bear, some sweets, a toothbrush (for after the sweets), half a dozen cars, a motorbike, and some New York Yankees official merchandise. We're aiming for the 2-4 age group in darkest Congo, so I'm sure they'll all be fans. Personally though, I was most pleased with the Asda crayons for 14p. Those orphans will never know how cheap we are.

Finally you're supposed to include a Christmas card or photo of yourself. Needless to say we went for the latter. I even signed it, so if that's not up on some refugee's wall (that's if they have walls) come Boxing Day, there'll be trouble. Admittedly I only printed it on photopaper from the local pound shop, so it's about as glossy as The Kemp Town Rag, but that's not the point - I'm an overseas benefactor and I want a shrine.

All we have to do now is return it here, where it'll be stored for a while in the bedroom Lisa and I shared last week, before being shipped across the world to make some small child's Christmas. It brings a lump to your throat. And it's tax-deductable.