Oh, the loathsomeness of the holidays, with crowds of people pressing in to gaze upon horrible decorations and hear primary schoolchildren sing terribly. It wouldn't be so bad except for the fact that most holiday crimes are sadly mundane affairs-teenagers absconding with other people's Christmas gifts and the odd domestic dispute when families are forced into the same vicinity.

Of course, John, being the altogether sentimental man he is, is vastly fond of the holiday and insists that I compose a Christmas blog post for him. I consent in the Christmas spirit. Well, that and he's bringing me my very own bottle of eggnog.

Without further adieu, here are three things I hate about Christmas:

1. Children: Most times of the year, I don't hate children any more than I hate adults. Some of them are quite clever. The problem is, the holidays bring out rashes of them doing all sorts of "talents" and "pageants" so treacly that one is liable to vomit simply from watching them. Fortunately, I've found a way to turn this to my advantage. I actually do attend pageants, much to the surprise of John and Mrs. Hudson, but I do it so that I can pick out which children are likely to be advantageous parts of the Baker Street Irregulars, my youthful eyes and ears in the city.

2. Gifts: John is forever wanting me to make lists of things I want and expecting me to produce various superfluous items for those who surround me. I will never understand the popular prejudice against handing one another money or credit cards that allow us to purchase whatever we like. Better yet, we could all save our money and buy ourselves what we want.

3. Comfort and Joy: How obnoxious it is that one is expected to be cheerful during the Christmas season, as if one's moods run according to the Roman calendar. During the month of December, I am subjected to all manner of back slaps and idiotic smiles and sugary confections, all with the object of making me "smile" or "feel the spirit of the season." Even Inspector Lestrade, who is usually at least reasonably sedate, takes to grinning and showing pictures of his spawn wearing ridiculous red caps.

The saving grace in all of this is that Christmas comes but once a year.