On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me
A partridge in a pear tree
Romano woke up like he normally did: around noon, completely naked, and hungry. Lying in bed on his back for about 20 minutes, Romano stared at the ceiling. Not for any particular reason. He woke up in a good mood. He'd be in an even better mood if Spain was next to him, but the tomatoes won't cover themselves, as Spain used to tell Romano when he was just a kid. So, he stayed in bed, just relaxing, thinking about what he should get done for the day. Maybe help Spain out make sure all of the tomatoes were covered for the snow that was supposed to hit sometime this week. Make lunch. Take a siesta. 'Hmmm, yeah, that sounds like a good idea.'
Getting up from the bed, Romano put on one of Spain's long sleeved shirts that he had forgotten to put away and a pair of his own Italian blue jeans. Taking a big yawn, Romano decided to open the window to add a little fresh air to his day. He unlatched the hook and let the window's swing open in a dramatic way. Breathing in deeply, Romano closed his eyes for a second, allowing the fresh air fill his lungs. The air was beginning to turn chilly, but not so much that the window couldn't hang open for s minute or two. Slowly, he opened his eyes. In the distance, Romano could see the garden, half of the field was covered under the beige tarp. And just beyond that, Romano could see the ocean: a dark turquoise and lapping at the sandy beach. Palm trees gently swaying in the light winter breeze. The sky was a paler shade of blue than the bright summer colour that most people associate the country of Spain with. Taking in another deep breath, Romano closed the window and walked downstairs to the kitchen.
But Romano couldn't help but smile when he walked into the kitchen. On the table, was a plate of thickly sliced tomatoes, arranged in a half circle around the tops of the plate. There were 3 strips of bacon that made up the other half of the circle, each crispy without being burnt. In the middle of the plate, was scrambled eggs with a dash of salt and pepper and in the very center on top of the eggs was cherry tomato. With a genuine smile plastered to his face, Romano sat down at the table. 'Damn, Antonio…what did I do to deserve this?' There was even a glass of tomato juice next the plate, not a huge glass, but just enough for Romano. So naturally, Romano dug in and ate everything off the plate. Taking the last sip of his tomato juice, Romano picked up the plate and brought it over to the sink. He was in such a good mood that he was even going to wash the plate for Spain.
Walking back over to get the empty glass, Romano noticed the note that was definitely not there when he walked into the kitchen. Picking it up, the note had 'Mi Amor' scribbled on the front in Spain's messy handwriting. 'That bastard,' Romano said, chuckling to himself, 'only he could pull off something like this.' Opening the note, Romano was surprised to see only one sentence scribbled down.
'Come to the backyard.'
"Hmph…" Romano folded the note back up and put it in his pocket. Whatever Spain was planning, Romano had no idea. Normally when Spain did things like this (yes, this wasn't the first time) he gave a clue or left a trail or something. Spain liked to play silly kids games like this, but this was the first time that Spain just said 'go here.'
Mildly disappointed, Romano made his way to the backyard. He'd never admit it, but Romano actually liked playing Spain's little games. They changed up Romano's routine, gave him something to look forward to. But still, today was a good day. Therefore, nothing will bring Romano down today.
Stepping out on the patio, Romano expected Spain standing there or the table covered in something romantic, like tomatoes. Maybe even a new pet. He did not, however, expect to see what was clearly in front of him, no matter how hard Romano tired to rub his eyes and see if the mirage would disappear. But to no avail. Romano blinked his eyes, turned around and turned back, but the image was still there. The question is: how?
"Spain! What the fuck is a partridge doing in our back yard? And when the hell did we grow a pear tree?"