Young Peregrin Took, Pippin as he was normally, as well as fondly, called, wanted to make his family dinner. He did not know a single thing about cooking nor had he ever done so before in his life. All Pippin knew was how to eat. That talent only helped him so far in the creating of his very first dinner.
He started early. It was barely dawn and already Pippin was fishing around for things to put into his concoction. This young hobbit had decided to make soup. Soup was easy. Everyone enjoyed soup. In addition, anything he found could go into it and the food would more than likely taste delicious. Soup was the perfect food Pippin Took decided.
All day long Peregrin Took slaved over his mysterious concoction he called soup. He wanted it to be perfect. Every now and then, the young hobbit would carefully spoon out a tiny bit of the broth and a bite of potato or cabbage or rutabaga. Blowing on the hot food, he would pop the bit of vitals. Chewing thoughtfully, Pippin would add some salt, pepper or some other spice.
By the time it was done, Peregrin Took was soaked through with sweat. Ash and suit covered his petite face. His cheeks were red and he was huffing slightly. Pippin had discovered cooking was a lot of work. He was exhausted.
Before his magnificent meal was to be served to his large, boisterous family and closest friends, Peregrin went and bathed. The warm water was wonderful and it eased his aching limbs. It took a good fifteen or twenty minutes for Pippin Took to scrub off all of the dirt, grime, and sweat. When he was done, the young hobbit was squeaky clean. His skin was pink and glowing from scrubbing himself with a terry cloth washcloth.
Grabbing his towel, also made out of terry cloth, he hurriedly dried himself off. Pippin started at the top of his head and worked his way down to his big and hairy feet.
When he was good and dry, he grabbed his brown, woolen ankle-length breeches. Slipping them on, he buttons the fly. Then, Pippin Took grabs his long-sleeved, cream, linen shirt. He puts one arm through the sleeve and then puts the other arm through the other sleeve. After that, Peregrin hastily buttons up the buttons. Last, but not least, he slipped his sturdy, leather suspenders up and over his narrow shoulder. Snapping them slightly, Pippin left the bathroom with a skip in his step and a smile upon his face.
He went into the kitchen as fast as his hairy feet would carry him. Everyone was sitting around. "Let's eat," he said as the Took's lovely housekeeper brought the massive kettle of soup. She spooned a hearty serving into everyone's bowels.
Pippin Took sat down beside his older cousin, Meriadoc Brandybuck, or Merry as he was also called. He looked at his cousin. A big grin was on Pippin's youthful face. "Oh, boy!" he exclaimed as he clapped his hands together in delight.
Merry looked into the bowel. A pensive and confused look was on his face. "Pip, what did you put in here?"
Pippin scratched his head. He smiled sheepishly. "Well, everyone says they that they put everything but the kitchen sink in soups," he offered in response to the question. His soup did indeed look as if Peregrin Took used everything but the kitchen sink to make this soup.
