What do you mean it is all over, Santa?

I don’t think this is humane. Santa, the elves and the rest of the Christmas gang cannot just dump us and disappear. After two months of an almost exclusive relationship, Christmas abandons our lives leaving us in full January dread. No fairy lights, no cosiness and optimism, no calorie-free chocolates (everybody knows that the Christmas magic prevents fat from being accumulated), no compulsory shopping (as if I needed an excuse…), nothing to look forward to (and Valentine’s day doesn’t count). Nothing at all. Unacceptable.

But at least this year I have a partner in defiance. My daughter and I are still singing Jingle Bells, We wish you a Merry Christmas and all other merry songs: at home, in the street, we don’t care. We look and point at the corner of the flat where the Christmas tree used to stand and quietly sigh. Then we proceed to draw and paint Christmas scenes and decorations. We are already counting the days to next year’s festivities. She is learning that no matter how many times a man tries to get away from you, you just keep going after him, relentlessly. He will change his mind at some point. Santa is no exception.

This pigheadedness is the reason she came into this world. And now she is a tiny Emotionally Incompetent disciple. There was no way I could find one: I had to make her.