I was all excited all day for tonight. Sinterklaasavond. I put my shoe in front of the fire-place. A carrot inside it for his horse or Zwarte Piet. I sang my songs as loud as I could. But nothing happened. No loud banging on the door. No giant stack of presents with my name on it. Not even a simple rhyme listing how genuinely awesome I am. Nothing.
This is the moment I kinda started feeling like an idiot. All that effort, and then nothing… All of the sudden it hit me. Could it be that he has forgotten about me? Nah. Already I knew that was impossible. The older people get, the better their memory… right? Besides, I was a pretty good girl this year so I think he would remember me. Also, I’m really awesome. So there’s literally no way the old chap could forget about me.
This led me to the conclusion that Sinterklaas has gone missing… Perhaps he was on his way here and took a wrong turn and is now running away from a terrible tribe in the heart of the jungle. Or he fell of his horse and is now dead. These are the only two things I can come op with. Well that, or he is really an incompetent twit and did forget about me… but that just seems a bit too far-fetched.
I’m pondering what else could have gone wrong, entertaining the most unlikeliest of scenarios. Perhaps he didn’t get my change of address form. Perhaps he’s addicted to crack and squandered all my gifts. I’m even starting to think that he isn’t real and that he never existed and I just imagined him… but that can’t possibly be true. I’ve seen him in real life and on the television… Nah, that just can’t be it.
I’m getting a bit worried now. The man is old, and probably wandering the streets of London looking for me feeling terribly guilty he’s left me waiting. Perhaps some bum beat him up and stole his miter. He’s got grime in his beard and he’s crying for some compassion. Someone to help him out, buy him a hot cup of coco to warm his cold bones. And most of all, he’s begging for someone to show him the way to my house.
Because he knows I’m waiting here. All alone in a room so cold I have to wear a hat and three sweaters just to stay warm. He can feel me glance out of the window in the hopes of seeing him, whilst trying to warm my cold heart and hands with a cup of tea. Slowly the desperation creeps in, I’m starting to question everything I once thought certain.
But for now, I remain hopeful. Sinterklaas probably couldn’t find my house. But there’s a solution for that. There is a place he can find anything I want and send it to me. All he needs is a credit card and some goodwill to help a cold struggling writer through some moments of boredom. So, Sinterklaas (or any of his Hulp-pieten)… if you’re reading this. Look no further, just click on this link and let the good people of Amazon do all the work for you. I’ll still believe in you!!