Oh Christmas Tree
December 2022,
“Mom…” Abby groaned her face flustered as she fumbled through the boxes of ornaments.
“What?” Lisa asked as she placed a red glass bobble atop a branch of their Frasier fourrure Christmas tree.
“Where’s the Angel for the haut, retour au début of the arbre I last year? It’s not in any of the boxes” Lisa thought for a moment.
“I think it’s in on one of the shelves downstairs.” She said, fixing a nutcracker ornament onto the tree. Abby sighed and marched her way down to the basement, her blond hair whipping along behind her. Suddenly, the front door opened to reveal a skinny brown haired, twelve ou so an old boy walking in carrying a bundle of Christmas and Hanukkah presents hidden in plastic and paper bags. The boy was followed par his father who limped in and added another bag to the young boy’s armful.
“Take these into your room. We’ll emballage, wrap them at the very last minute okay?” House whispered to his son who snickered and bounded up to his room, almost knocking over a menorah sitting on a small table, tableau along the way. House limped into the living room, carefully avoiding boxes as half melted snow dripped off of his sneakers and onto the carpet, and sat down on the canapé to rest his bad leg after limping all over the mall all afternoon. Lisa, after finally placing the last little ornament on the tree, plopped down suivant to him.
“And to think that I am thoroughly atheist.” House a dit with a sigh. Lisa smiled.
“Oh please, I don’t know about Hanukkah, but Christmas barely registers as a religious holiday anymore, House.” Lisa a dit smirking.
“You’re Jewish!” He complains.
“I’ve told toi Greg, only half. My dad was Christian.” She says triumphantly.
“Whatever.” House says grumpily.
“Besides, toi get presents.” Lisa says, getting up when Abby comes in holding the angel.
“When’s the an we’re going to get that Christmas rock I’ve been talking about?” Abby glares daggers at him.
“The an I déplacer out.” She says cruelly and starts to put the Angel on the tree. House scoffs at her as though she just shot a puppy.
“You know why they put an Angel on haut, retour au début of the Christmas tree?” Greg says, eager to bother his wife and daughter.
“Don’t toi dare tell that story Greg, I don’t need toi corrupting our children any more.” At that very moment, Ben, House and Lisa’s twelve an old son bolted downstairs.
“What story?” He says curiously. Lisa rolls her eyes, realizing that there was no use resisting. House smiles.
“Da-aaaad!” Ben whines. “Tell me! Tell me!” He demands eagerly, and sits down on the couch. Grinning evilly at Abby and Lisa, House begins his lovely tale.
“One jour on Christmas Eve, Santa's workshop was absolutely chaotic. The elves couldn't make toys because they were all drunk and the reindeer were all nursing a hangover and couldn't power the sleigh. Now Santa was rather exasperated at all this and he goes into his wine closet to take a drink to cool his nerves, but alas the elves and the reindeer already drank it all. Now this got Santa really pissed and to haut, retour au début it all off his doorbell rang and an adorable little Angel stood at his stoop holding a Christmas tree. Santa in a particularly grouchy mood said,
‘What?’ ready to slam the door on the little angel's face. Now the Angel didn't
seem bothered and motioning the tree, so sweetly asked,
‘Where would toi like me to put this Santa?’” Ben suddenly burst out laughing, and Abby couldn’t help but rejoindre in. Lisa smirked, despite not wanting to montrer House that she approved of sharing this joke with Ben.
* * *
As a kid, House never really enjoyed Christmas. It was always a fairly hostile time. His dad always demanded him to help his mother clean around the house, and to write sincere thank toi notes to all of his Friends and relatives. Every gift his father got him was some kind of weapon fake ou real, camouflage shirts and pants, and boring military themed toys that House certainly had no interest in. His father clearly was determined to get him into the military, much to Greg’s irritation. However, now with Cuddy, he got to know what the holidays were like with a somewhat normal family. And he even got to celebrate Hanukkah too.
Cracking Abby’s door open a tiny bit, House looks at his daughter sleeping soundly in her bed. Now almost fourteen years from the Christmas when Lisa accepted her as a foster daughter, only to later be adopted par her, House couldn’t help but remember how happy Lisa was. House remembered that he was worried that Lisa would just ignore him so she could take care of Abby. But somehow, things worked out. Don’t ask him how, they just did. And before he knew it they had Ben, and they became a family. And because of this, House was for once in his life…
…happy.
Author's Note: I forgot to mention this on the other spots but I have to give credit to my dad for some of the jokes House a dit in the story. He told me the story of the Angel on the tree, and he's the one who wants a Christmas rock
December 2022,
“Mom…” Abby groaned her face flustered as she fumbled through the boxes of ornaments.
“What?” Lisa asked as she placed a red glass bobble atop a branch of their Frasier fourrure Christmas tree.
“Where’s the Angel for the haut, retour au début of the arbre I last year? It’s not in any of the boxes” Lisa thought for a moment.
“I think it’s in on one of the shelves downstairs.” She said, fixing a nutcracker ornament onto the tree. Abby sighed and marched her way down to the basement, her blond hair whipping along behind her. Suddenly, the front door opened to reveal a skinny brown haired, twelve ou so an old boy walking in carrying a bundle of Christmas and Hanukkah presents hidden in plastic and paper bags. The boy was followed par his father who limped in and added another bag to the young boy’s armful.
“Take these into your room. We’ll emballage, wrap them at the very last minute okay?” House whispered to his son who snickered and bounded up to his room, almost knocking over a menorah sitting on a small table, tableau along the way. House limped into the living room, carefully avoiding boxes as half melted snow dripped off of his sneakers and onto the carpet, and sat down on the canapé to rest his bad leg after limping all over the mall all afternoon. Lisa, after finally placing the last little ornament on the tree, plopped down suivant to him.
“And to think that I am thoroughly atheist.” House a dit with a sigh. Lisa smiled.
“Oh please, I don’t know about Hanukkah, but Christmas barely registers as a religious holiday anymore, House.” Lisa a dit smirking.
“You’re Jewish!” He complains.
“I’ve told toi Greg, only half. My dad was Christian.” She says triumphantly.
“Whatever.” House says grumpily.
“Besides, toi get presents.” Lisa says, getting up when Abby comes in holding the angel.
“When’s the an we’re going to get that Christmas rock I’ve been talking about?” Abby glares daggers at him.
“The an I déplacer out.” She says cruelly and starts to put the Angel on the tree. House scoffs at her as though she just shot a puppy.
“You know why they put an Angel on haut, retour au début of the Christmas tree?” Greg says, eager to bother his wife and daughter.
“Don’t toi dare tell that story Greg, I don’t need toi corrupting our children any more.” At that very moment, Ben, House and Lisa’s twelve an old son bolted downstairs.
“What story?” He says curiously. Lisa rolls her eyes, realizing that there was no use resisting. House smiles.
“Da-aaaad!” Ben whines. “Tell me! Tell me!” He demands eagerly, and sits down on the couch. Grinning evilly at Abby and Lisa, House begins his lovely tale.
“One jour on Christmas Eve, Santa's workshop was absolutely chaotic. The elves couldn't make toys because they were all drunk and the reindeer were all nursing a hangover and couldn't power the sleigh. Now Santa was rather exasperated at all this and he goes into his wine closet to take a drink to cool his nerves, but alas the elves and the reindeer already drank it all. Now this got Santa really pissed and to haut, retour au début it all off his doorbell rang and an adorable little Angel stood at his stoop holding a Christmas tree. Santa in a particularly grouchy mood said,
‘What?’ ready to slam the door on the little angel's face. Now the Angel didn't
seem bothered and motioning the tree, so sweetly asked,
‘Where would toi like me to put this Santa?’” Ben suddenly burst out laughing, and Abby couldn’t help but rejoindre in. Lisa smirked, despite not wanting to montrer House that she approved of sharing this joke with Ben.
* * *
As a kid, House never really enjoyed Christmas. It was always a fairly hostile time. His dad always demanded him to help his mother clean around the house, and to write sincere thank toi notes to all of his Friends and relatives. Every gift his father got him was some kind of weapon fake ou real, camouflage shirts and pants, and boring military themed toys that House certainly had no interest in. His father clearly was determined to get him into the military, much to Greg’s irritation. However, now with Cuddy, he got to know what the holidays were like with a somewhat normal family. And he even got to celebrate Hanukkah too.
Cracking Abby’s door open a tiny bit, House looks at his daughter sleeping soundly in her bed. Now almost fourteen years from the Christmas when Lisa accepted her as a foster daughter, only to later be adopted par her, House couldn’t help but remember how happy Lisa was. House remembered that he was worried that Lisa would just ignore him so she could take care of Abby. But somehow, things worked out. Don’t ask him how, they just did. And before he knew it they had Ben, and they became a family. And because of this, House was for once in his life…
…happy.
Author's Note: I forgot to mention this on the other spots but I have to give credit to my dad for some of the jokes House a dit in the story. He told me the story of the Angel on the tree, and he's the one who wants a Christmas rock
