La magie de Noël. Not. Mais un peu quand même.

Nous sommes chez mes parents depuis hier soir. Soir. Souper de famille. Of course, ma mère en a profité pour :

  • Boire plusieurs verres. Plusieurs.
  • Prendre sa pilule pour dormir en buvant bien avant d’aller se coucher.
  • Essayer d’avoir des conversations désagréables.
  • Renverser son verre de vin sur mon ordinateur. Une chance que le couvercle était fermé…

C’est la portion non magique de Noël.

Ce matin, elle était une autre personne. Comme d’habitude. Je fais du renforcement positif, genre. Elle a droit de toucher ma bedaine juste si elle n’a pas bu. Héhé.

Et il neige ! C’est blanc ! Ça, c’est magique. Autres choses de magique :

  • Rêver que je me fais expulser de la job pour une semaine sans salaire parce que j’ai invité une femme qui vient d’accoucher de jumeaux à me montrer comment elle allaite, sur l’heure du midi.
  • Avoir chaud quand la température de la pièce est à 14.
  • Mon père qui me fait le déjeuner et le café.
  • Mon chum qui me donne du bacon.
  • Boire une 2e tasse de café.
  • Montrer à mon père comment Twitter fonctionne.



I don’t know why I thought of this but I started thinking about the things I felt were wonderful when I was a kid. Did I forget about them ? Does becoming older mean we forget about these and only rediscover our wonders only when we have kids ?

  • Rainbows and the legendary pot of gold
  • The first snowflakes of winter
  • Jumping in autumn leaves
  • Cristals that make all those beautiful lights
  • Saying hello to planes
  • Trains
  • Kittens
  • Velour
  • Swimming
  • Food shaped funny
  • Fruits with seeds
  • Dandelions with their white heads
  • Ants
  • The smell of visitor’s coats during a party
  • Pancakes
  • Mommie’s shoes
  • Birthday cake with lots of icing and sugar and weird colors
  • The moon
  • The idea of someone winning the lotto
  • A new book
  • Music
  • Chocolate and candy
  • New notebooks

Thinking about all of this does make me wonder. Velour IS a bit magic isn’t it ?

J’ai recontré le vrai Père Noël

It turns out that Santa volunteers at the same place I do. Isn’t it cool ? I entered the « mail room » and I gasped, stunned, as I thought « Santaaa?! ». It was him. He is a friend of one of the supervisors and he decided to give a hand with the letters.

I would have thought that after the Christmas letters he would have had enough but no. Hehe. This is the Real Santa (has business cards too), the only Santa affiliated strictly to one shopping centre. The others just wander from one place to the next.

He has a real beard and real white hair, looks solid under his red shirt (he has a blue one underneath) and has a rocky voice. I just wanted to sit in his lap.

I was writing in another room and each time I came into the mail room, I was gaping. He has a nice sense of humor. He even laughed as I was describing my frosting-eating habits I had with an ex-boss. Yeah, some night, I just can’t help but show this side of me (the piggy one).

Since I saw him, well, I’ve been feeling like a 5 year-old again. It seems magic really exists, I can believe again.