Who is my Santa Claus? That’s the question we’re all asking ourselves this week. Faced with the economic situation, most families (perhaps not that of Bolloré) have been opting for some December 24 for the secret Santa Claus. Themecret santa ” in original version, which we practiced before the crisis more between colleagues than relatives and which filled us up for the year with school supplies and skateboards for our fingers.
Rather than offering one gift per person (even in decimated homes, half a dozen packages are easily reached by counting the spouses), we simplify Christmas Eve by randomly picking the one to whom we will surprise . The suspense (did I come across my cousin, the right-hand man of a leatherworker renowned for his clean lines, or my half-brother, a 22-year-old zadist passionate about the private life of compost worms?) distracts us from the reality.
It’s not a game, it’s a social plan engaged between foie gras and the log. Moreover, we often agree to limit the budget. Of course, there is always a bean: “ Yes, I went a little over…but, at least it’s good quality. It’s better no ? No, that’s not better, Laurent, that’s cheating. Even if I sympathize with you and your anguish at being rejected from this Christmas with your family that you are spending without yours for the first time in your life, out of love for my zadist brother.
For us, we had to be creative. At less than 15 euros, we can’t even offer the last Goncourt (that said…). But you’re the one who’s right, Laurent, you might as well cheat, since, let’s be honest, it’s about winning and not pleasing (here’s the game: offering the most beautiful first prize soup arm under the bad player’s gaze of the table). ” Failing to win a Grand Prix, Lando Norris offers the best gifts “, even titles the press (finally Kombini) which “ reveals the secret Santa of formula 1 pilots “. Indeed, if you missed your year, this is most certainly the last chance you have to catch up, six days from the finish line.
By Barbara Krief
