The adventures of Sherlock and Redbeard

Christmas

Sherlock under the Christmas tree holding his massive magnifying glass searching for Santa. He was a prodigy for 3 years old as he had stuffed pillows under his blanket and climbed out of his cot. Without being caught he had limited vision, only able to see up to the knees of and average human. Sherlock had kept himself awake for hours but just couldn't take it any more

His eyelids began to droop and he slept like a log for the next half hour.

DING DONG DING DONG went the grandfather clock at the midnight hour. Sherlock arose from his sleep to see black, shiny boots stand a meter in front of him and held in a tiny gasp. Santa was real. Mummy wasn't lying although her heart rate went up by three beats per second and she didn't make eye contact with him! Sherlock couldn't help but to doze off again but this time untill his parents found him the next morning.

Sherlock's parents and Mycroft lifted up the branches of the tree to find Sherlock wearing his favourite pirate hat sleeping in a sitting position and magnifying glass on the floor.

Sherlock's dad lifted him up. "Wakey wakey, cheeky pirate. It's Christmas!"

Sherlock snapped his eyes open and squirmed out of his dad's arms. "I...I..I saw Santa Daddy! I saw his boots!"

"Oh did you now?" He replied

"You can open your presents, boys." Their mother said

Sherlock ran over to his half of the Christmas tree but fell over on to the pine needles on the floor "Don't wurry! I'm fine!" He said as he dusted of his powder blue onesie.

Mycroft however stalked over to his MASSIVE gifts in his corduroy shorts and knee length socks. He carefully opened the presents at the sticky tape and folded the paper. "Oh... A DIY treadmill...Well I guess that's the best that Santa can do isn't it? This is much better a Winston Churchill book and video tapes. Splendid."

Their parents sighed at Mycroft's failure to see the signs of his mild obesity.

Sherlock ripped open one of his presents leaving the wrapping paper in shreds. "Cool! Mind puzzles. Oh... they're the easy ones again I already know why a raven is like a writing desk, Santa!" Sherlock said facing the ceiling. He was about to rip open the next one when he realised it was a box with holes. "Mummy do you have the scissors?"

"I'll just get them sweetie." She cut the tape securing the two sides and let Sherlock do the rest. Their dad was filming.

Sherlock breathed in and put his tubby little fingers in between the cardboard unexpectedly an Irish setter puppy bounced out and on to Sherlock. He let out a squeal of delight as the jumpy little dog licked his face clean.

"Why did Sherlock get a dog? I've been asking for an owl for years, mummy!

Sherlock blocked out of his whiny brother and observed the dog it's hair was auburn, pedigree, used to live on a farm, maybe from Mrs Dudly.

"Thank you SO much, Santa!" Sherlock stroked the dog enthusiastically

"What are you going to call him!" His mum asked

"Redbeard. So Mycroft doesn't have to play pirates with me any more."

His parents smiled as Mycroft sat with an extreme pout and his arms folded "It's not fair mummy! Tell Santa to sort out his own weight problems first than ruin my Christmas!"

Their parents tried to calm Mycroft down, maybe the treadmill was one step too far

"Let's go and play Redbeard, we are going to be best friends forever! "

Sherlock lead to dog to his cardboard ship "Mycroft's Davy Jones!"

"SHUT UP SHERLOCK! MY CHRISTMAS IS BAD ENOUGH ALREADY."