Every Sunday, L’Express takes a bite out of life under Covid-19. Today: let’s face it, a December 24 without a family celebration also has its charm.
Come on, let’s be honest, we were only half sad when it came to a December 24th without a family celebration. Of course, we had a little heartache for the merchant brother-in-law whose turnover was going to plunge further, for the SNCF which was not going to be able to sell its tickets at a high price like in other years or for the foie gras / oyster / champagne producers who were going to stay with their stocks on their hands, but that’s about it. Basically, no matter how much we adore our loved ones, we wouldn’t be sorry to escape the annual ritual. We are probably not the only ones, to believe a recent survey according to which one in two French people would be ready to give up family celebrations.
In the large tribes, Christmas means dozens of gift ideas to find, half a dozen meals, each fatter than the next, to string together, Uncle Paul to support and Aunt Jacqueline to comfort. In families on edge, December 24 usually ends with a sister-in-law crying because her stepfather made an unpleasant remark to her or with a shocked mother to find out that Uncle Maurice was never his brother because in real life he was adopted, which everyone knew but no one had ever told him. In families obsessed with weight, eating foie gras, capon, snails and oysters quickly turns to torture, we see the cousins, brothers and sisters running at dawn on December 25 to eliminate alcohol / fat / smoke from cigars, even in -10 degrees, and you feel guilty about curling up in the comforter without moving.
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