Give us Santa Claus! He was expected 364 days a year, who was followed closely by the bogeyman (but ultimately never came, of course), in whom we could put all our hopes, all our wildest dreams ... The Palace of Wonders, up there somewhere under the snow, we worked hard during the summer months. Dreams celluloid, metal, lacquer, rustling of paper, curling ribbon glitter, happiness, well packaged ... The Christmas windows on the boulevards to wait one or two way Jugnot Santas, roasted chestnuts in paper bags ... But Father does not exist, it no longer exists. In rays toys today, little tracking: a colorful piggy bank of china made in China bigger than a rice cooker from the same manufacturer without doubt, a cash register with scaner incorporated (much faster and convenient than the old model crank Madam!), a rack of bundles of euro banknotes (mostly clippings 50, 100, 200 and 500 euros), a board game whose object is to know "Who is the richest," etc., etc. ... I am disgusted
(once again you ask me) but this crisis makes dreams of small bankers sore thirteenth month. Our little darlings want of money, even more money, be worth millions, if not the richest ... In ten or fifteen years, our company has more than schoolteachers, nurses, veterinarians, firefighters , policemen, gendarmes ... but just thieves. Tomorrow in crisis!
Rattlesnake wintering
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