No matter what your beliefs regarding Christmas, it’s undeniable that the holiday season is full of delights for all of our senses. The sights, the sounds, smells and tastes surrounding Christmas are really a wonder people of all ages. The lights, the music, the glittery snow and all the sparkly things are a joy to be sure, but what about the food? What a nice surprise to walk in to work and see a tray of treats made by a co-worker or customer as a delicious Happy Holidays message, or a doorbell rung by a friend delivering an unexpected box of cookies or basket of fruit.
So, Thursday, when my husband arrived home to a note on the door that there was a perishable package at the post office for him, we were excited both to see who it was from,and what it could possibly be.
He wasn’t able to get there until Saturday morning, but by that time, he had found out that it was a gift from his corporate office. What he brought home was this lovely box; The Founder’s Box, from the long time purveyor of fresh fruit and rich delicacies, Harry & David.
Like two small children, we hovered over the box of goodies, oohing and aaahing at all of the delectable delights contained therein, while our faithful dog, Daisy, stood at our feet.
As always, she was anticipating something to be dropped or handed to her from the table. If her demands aren’t met, and nothing to put in her mouth is offered, she waits until no one is looking and stretches her tiny body to the limit in attempts to grab whatever she can from any surface where forbidden fruit (no pun intended) may be sitting unguarded.
We carefully took everything out of the box and read the labels, marveling at the decadence of the truffles, cookies, chocolate covered popcorn and other non-fruit items. The box also contained two apples, and six beautiful pears. Royal Riviera Pears, to be exact, said to be some of the best pears in the world.
One of these beautiful pears was wrapped in gold. Naturally, we thought this pear must be extra special. Why else would it be wrapped in gold foil?
“Unwrap that pear!” I said like a five-year-old. “Maybe it’s dipped in chocolate or something!”
The glorious golden pear was unwrapped, and no, it hadn’t been dipped in chocolate. Apparently it was just a decorative adornment for one of the half-dozen juicy pears tucked in the box. We didn’t care that it wasn’t dipped in chocolate, and we soon discovered, neither did the dog.
After being unwrapped, the unfortunate pear was accidentally dropped on the dining room table, and then it went bouncing to the floor. It was immediately snapped up by the jaws of the still present, ever impatient puppy, who had been lying in wait, hoping for a handout.
Daisy took off running with her prize, me yelling and chasing after her. My husband said just to let her have it, there were five other pears in the box. “No Way!- It WAS wrapped in gold. Maybe it’s still better than all the others.”
The low-riding bandit squeezed herself under the chair in the living room, the pear still in her mouth. I was on one side of the chair, my husband on the other. With an ottoman in front of the chair, she knew she was beaten. That pear may have been the largest thing I’ve ever retrieved from her little jaws, but I got it. Teethmarks and all.
‘Are we going to eat that? It’s got dog slobber all over it.” Says darling husband.
“Hell yeah, we’re going to eat it! It’s the best pear in the world isn’t it?” I replied, happy to have beaten my pint-sized nemesis (for the moment).
I took the pear, still glorious despite it’s punctured and salivated state, to the kitchen and washed it lovingly, so as not to do it further harm.
My husband did the honor of splaying it for our enjoyment with the apple slicer, to which it yielded like soft butter. He ceremoniously took a slice for himself and I did the same. After biting into it, he remarked how delicious it was, and asked if I didn’t come to the same conclusion.
“Well, it doesn’t taste quite right, since I just brushed my teeth.” I would have much rather enjoyed it later, when my palate had not been altered by a rigorous cleansing with Crest. But that’s quite alright. There are still four of those pears in that gorgeous box, and I do plan to have one as soon as I get home from work today.
As for the dog? She got her revenge. I had two boxes of treats from my own kitchen on that table on Saturday, bursting out of festive, bright red boxes. She jumped on a chair and stole a sugar cookie, slathered with frosting, right out of one of them before I was able to wrap them up. She had eaten it before I even realized it was gone.
That’ll teach you to take The World’s Best Pear out of my mouth, old lady.