... 9 like this date: September 9, 1999.
I just knew this. Three is the perfect number, right? So ... three times three will be even better, I kept telling myself. The summer was ending north of the equator and I hadn't yet made my usual full fish meal in the year. The moment had arrived. The fishing ban was over and I was sure my favorite restaurant in Italy had my favorite fish dishes in its menu card again.
I prepared with care. I had been eating little or nothing for three days. I wished to enjoy everything from appetizers to desserts, included grilled and fried fish, of course!
The place was lovely. Sitting on the porch by the sea I had cleaned up all the grilled fish until the last bone and was looking forward to the fried fish.
I was already quite full, but you have to know, dear children, my biggest flaws are curiosity and gluttony. Do not imitate me, please! Especially for gluttony. You have to listen to what that perfect day had reserved for me ... And yet the waiter had warned me: "Be careful sir, there is some fish beyond measure. The chef has cooked them, but it is recommended to remove all bones."
But what could I do? those chubby mullet attracted me a lot. So crispy, so good ... and then what can ever happen to Santa Claus?
"Ouch! What ...? " - I thought a bit worried. I 'd felt a couple of sharp pains in my throat. I put the mullet in my hand in the plate and swallowed empty. The pain was increasing. And a lot! I tried to clear my voice. Worse than ever. I coughed in the hope that bones - because I was sure that bones stuck in my throat were the source of my problem - decided to take the right path. Nothing to do. The more I struggled the more I had pain. I was now livid with the effort to resolve my situation. Meanwhile nobody seemed to be interested. On the other hand I chose a very discreet corner table as usual and gave my back to everyone. I don't want anyone can point his eyes on me. Drops of sweat were running down my forehead. Have you ever tried to cough without anybody can listen to you? But my efforts were useless. And what is worse I knew no magic formula for such a case.
Suddenly a hand pulled my sleeve while the other was handing me a piece of bread.
"My mom makes me eat it always when bones stop in my throat, sir!"
A dark-haired boy, all curls and dimples, was watching me with two brown eyes. I took the piece of bread and chewed for a long time hopefully. To swallow it was less painful than expected. I tried again with another piece and then another one. On the fourth attempt I felt no more pain. Everything had gone well. Fiuhhh! I wiped the sweat from my brow and turned.
The baby was sitting properly at the table with his parents, looking at me. I got up two fingers in a victory sign. He smiled and returned. A friendship was born. I noted mentally the Christmas gift for him. That evening I finished my dinner in that way. It had not been the special day I had waited so long :(((
What will Santa bring to that dark-haired little boy? Be patient until December 25 ...
By the way, we are Italians, to translate better the stories. Thank you :))