Every year, exactly five minutes before midnight, I start a special mission: to open a bottle so that the cork doesn't fly into the chandelier, the cat, or the TV. By the way, my cat has already learned to hide at the sight of champagne - apparently, a childhood trauma.
And when the coveted pshhh! is heard, I feel like a real wizard. Even if there's not a magic elixir in the glass, but the most ordinary champagne, for some reason it always makes you want to smile, laugh, and make the wildest wishes.
By the way, do any of you know how to pour champagne beautifully? For me, it usually looks like a small waterfall of bubbles that floods everything around: the tablecloth, my hands, the floor... But the guests always smile and propose a toast to my ingenuity!
And how I love these moments when the clock strikes 12, and I, with a glass in my hand, try to make a wish, hug everyone I love, and not spill my sparkling treasure! This, my friends, is art. But there is one nuance. For some reason, champagne becomes tricky after midnight: you drink it, and it already whispers in your ear that you can dance and sing. It is especially funny when in the morning it turns out that "Three White Horses" are not really white at all, and my voice is not for the stage, but for karaoke, and only in a very narrow circle.
But, honestly, I adore these moments. Because champagne is not just a drink, it is a small spark of celebration, without which New Year would be just January 1st.
Your Nadya.