Sinterklaas's contemplations

Sinterklaas sat in front of the television. What a great idea it would have been to have the presents delivered with a drone. Easy from a lazy chair, he was able to lower everything perfectly through the right chimney with the drone. Admittedly, when the wind was blowing, it asked some more of his helmsman skills, but after a few small incidents, in which he had managed to avoid the remnant of foliage in some trees and an unexpectedly opened popup window, it was all quite successful. The advantage was of course also that in cold, cutting wind or a rain shower he could stay warm and dry inside. Cold and rain, however you turn it or turn, was still an attack on your health. It would be a small adaptation of what Sinterklaas songs mean, 'Hear the wind blowing 'would hardly apply anymore. All no problem, so many songs were changed already, then that could be added to it.

Ultimately, the drone work also meant a reduction in labour costs, and that was a good argument in these modern times. Another good argument: it gave us a lot of free time to do other things. Reading books, for example. He'd been a real bookworm before.

But he finally had time for television. He had just watched the whole Rambo series and that had got a sensitive string in him anyway. Would that be something for him? After all, he was still fit and vital enough and for some physical activity he did not get scared back. He already saw himself swinging by a vine in the jungle. His compression stockings like a cool headband around his head and finally leave the door without his rather sturdy toupee, that appealed to him.

He looked around the room. On the table stood the old-fashioned typewriter on which he still made a large part of the Sinterklaas poems, next to it the bottle of speculoos liqueur. In the corner were rolls of Sinterklaas paper. He sighed once. No, he didn't have to fool himself, he would miss the real Sinterklaaswerk if he were to cross the jungle with a machete.

It was a good thing the timer triggered the ringer. Relieved he grabbed the remote control of his drone, it was time for another delivery round. And next year? Maybe go back and deliver the parcels in the flesh.