Hades Lord of the Dead's December Calendar Challenge of Awesomeness 2013-2014 - Day Twenty Five
[Prompt from mrspencil and Ennui Enigma]From mrspencil and Ennui Enigma: 25. An unexpected Christmas holiday tradition
I cannot remember the last time that I enjoyed a Christmas dinner - or even the last occasion upon which I partook of one. It was most certainly before I left school, a long time ago now.
I did not even bother with Christmas when I lived alone. There was no reason to. Sharing rooms with Watson has changed that, for the fellow seems determined to forget Afghanistan and celebrate with me. I cannot say that I blame him; I can see at a glance that he has suffered much.
The goose is excellent. I had almost forgotten how much I enjoy goose for Christmas dinner. The accompanying port is rich and warming; just the thing for such a cold Winter's night.
My eyelids are becoming deucedly heavy by the time our dinner plates are cleared away. I am tempted to excuse myself but Watson has already mentioned a pudding and I am fond of desserts.
The sight and smell of the rich Christmas pudding banishes all thoughts of sleep the moment that it arrives and Watson and I set to with a will.
I am just about to remark to my companion that this pudding is a delight, for it tastes delicious and almost falls apart without a need for chewing, when my back-teeth strike something hard.
"Ow!" I yelp, more in surprised shock than pain, and politely remove the offending hard object from my mouth.
Watson is now gazing at me with concern. "Are you all right old fellow? Whatever is the matter?"
I hold the hard object up to the light. It is a sixpence. "Mrs. Hudson should be more careful with the contents of her pockets when she is baking," I complain. "Look Watson! See what she has dropped into our pudding; a fellow might break a tooth or choke."
"It is a tradition Holmes," he informs me patiently. "It is supposed to be lucky. Did you never have a sixpence in your Christmas pudding at home?"
I shake my head as I examine the coin. "No, never. My parents did not believe in luck."
My companion addresses me with what would appear to be a look of sympathy but says nothing. He does not seem to be surprised that I am not familiar with a vast number of Christmas traditions.
"I suggest that you make a wish Holmes," the fellow advises me at length. "Perhaps you shall be surprised."
I very much doubt it, but I do not argue. The wish is suitably sentimental, for this is most likely the most pleasant Christmas that I have ever experienced. I am only glad that my new friend does not expect me to divulge my private wish to him once I have made it.
I cannot remember the last time that I enjoyed a Christmas dinner - or even the last occasion upon which I partook of one. It was most certainly before I left school, a long time ago now.
I did not even bother with Christmas when I lived alone. There was no reason to. Sharing rooms with Watson has changed that, for the fellow seems determined to forget Afghanistan and celebrate with me. I cannot say that I blame him; I can see at a glance that he has suffered much.
The goose is excellent. I had almost forgotten how much I enjoy goose for Christmas dinner. The accompanying port is rich and warming; just the thing for such a cold Winter's night.
My eyelids are becoming deucedly heavy by the time our dinner plates are cleared away. I am tempted to excuse myself but Watson has already mentioned a pudding and I am fond of desserts.
The sight and smell of the rich Christmas pudding banishes all thoughts of sleep the moment that it arrives and Watson and I set to with a will.
I am just about to remark to my companion that this pudding is a delight, for it tastes delicious and almost falls apart without a need for chewing, when my back-teeth strike something hard.
"Ow!" I yelp, more in surprised shock than pain, and politely remove the offending hard object from my mouth.
Watson is now gazing at me with concern. "Are you all right old fellow? Whatever is the matter?"
I hold the hard object up to the light. It is a sixpence. "Mrs. Hudson should be more careful with the contents of her pockets when she is baking," I complain. "Look Watson! See what she has dropped into our pudding; a fellow might break a tooth or choke."
"It is a tradition Holmes," he informs me patiently. "It is supposed to be lucky. Did you never have a sixpence in your Christmas pudding at home?"
I shake my head as I examine the coin. "No, never. My parents did not believe in luck."
My companion addresses me with what would appear to be a look of sympathy but says nothing. He does not seem to be surprised that I am not familiar with a vast number of Christmas traditions.
"I suggest that you make a wish Holmes," the fellow advises me at length. "Perhaps you shall be surprised."
I very much doubt it, but I do not argue. The wish is suitably sentimental, for this is most likely the most pleasant Christmas that I have ever experienced. I am only glad that my new friend does not expect me to divulge my private wish to him once I have made it.