Elf and safety

Comme everywhere else, French children have thought long and hard about being good, given up, and  instead gone to defcon 1 in anticipation of pere noel’s arrival. Were they a little older and more attuned to la vie francais however, their assumption of his largesse might be a little more tempered.

Instead of a hirsute, jolly stranger trying to shove himself down the chimney - his faithful red nosed cerf and sleigh parked adjacent - their expectation would be more of an ill tempered fonctionnaire, furious at his extended shift, unheated transport and ridiculous uniform. And it goes without saying that he couldn’t consider going anywhere near the roof nor attempt to heft a sack weighing more than a kilo over his shoulder. In fact, what with the risk of repetitive strain injury from cracking the reins incessantly (and that he and Mme Noel have more than three children so, courtesy of welfare payments, don’t really need to go to work), there’s little incentive to go through the whole tiresome business anyway. Ho ho ho – pah!

And what with the limitations of a heavily unionised elf workshop, the legal requirement to translate every instruction book into French (correct accents obligatoire), the insistence that only a French made sleigh can be used (despite its fragility and inflated price) and the bloody chasseurs constantly trying to down Rudolph and his chums, it’s a wonder that Christmas ‘appens at all.

Thank God then for Amazon – a squillion things to choose from, almost all way cheaper than in the shops and delivered in packaging that even La Poste finds hard to destroy. And of course for the arrival of a real father Christmas, who’s kindly taken time off advertising Coke and isn’t subject to the working time directive. Bonne noel à tous.