Sherlock Holmes Ruined Our Seder

I should never have invited Sherlock Holmes to our Passover seder. But he was so insistent, so curious to attend the annual millleniums-old Hebraic celebration of emancipation, that in the end I couldnt say no. Of course when you invite Holmes, its a given Watson will tag along. Oy.

We had barely taken seats at the table when my wife had to slap Watsons hand away from the charoset. Homes explained to his companion that the eating of this symbolic food would come later in the ceremony. Meanwhile, Harriet Slavkin, who arrived late because, I had to stop for gas, was seated next to Holmes, and made the mistake of asking if he planned to swap his deerstalking cap for a yarmulke. This sent Holmes into an hour-long lecture on headcoverings of various cultures with special attention to the Mursi and Surma tribes of Africa.

Afterwards, he asked if anyone would mind if he smoked his pipe. All objected, but he lit it anyway. Watson used the distraction to sneak some bitter herbs.

I felt particularly bad for the children. Holmes took all the fun and joy and awe out of the evening. Of course, he answered all of the Four Questions before any of the little ones could get a word in. He also went off on a forty-five-minute tangent explaining with annoying scientific precision how the plague of locusts was more likely cicadas, which are frequently mistaken for locusts, though, biologically, their structures more closely resemble those of crickets. Fortunately, Holmes was busy injecting himself with cocaine when we reached the exciting climax of the story when Moses parts the Sea of Reeds, or Im sure he would have ruined that miracle for everyone, too.

I noticed matzah crumbs on Watsons chin, and I didnt need Holmes deductive powers to figure out how they got there. Not embarrassing himself enough, Watson made some infantile and unfunny remark about the Jewish people being in bondage.

It was far and away the worst seder wed ever had. Holmes only positive contribution to the evening was when he provided a lovely violin accompaniment to the singing of Dayenu at the end of the dinner. But whatever good will that earned him, was immediately undone by what followed.

Lonnie Epstein and his wife rose from the table announcing they had to leave. Several other guests said they must be going, too. Lonnie thanked us, and said he wished he could stay, but he had to drop Mrs. Epstein off at home, and then head back to the office to finish some work for the morning.

I think not, said Holmes.

Pardon me, replied Lonnie.

I dont believe the office is your ultimate destination, Holmes said.

I dont understand, Lonnie said.

Then allow me to explain, Holmes replied. When Mrs. Slavkin arrived, he said, pointing to Harriet Slavkin, one of those who was about to leave, she claimed she was late because shed gotten petrol. That was a lie.

Excuse me, exclaimed Harriet Slavkin, offended.

You didnt get gas, Madam. I know this, because when you poured yourself wine, I took the opportunity to sniff your hand. There was not even a trace of gasoline on it. Whats more, when you walked in, I noticed that stuck to the left side of the heel of your right shoe was a leaf. Holmes knelt and held his magnifying glass over the leaf for all to see. This is not just any leaf, he continued. It is the leaf of a Hoffmannseggia tenella, or Slender Rush-pea, a plant so exceedingly rare, it can only be found in one location within one hundred and fifty miles of here. And that location, he said, pausing dramatically, is the grove beside the Holiday Inn Express on the interstate off of exit 714.

Im sure I dont know what the point of all this is, said Harriet weakly.

The point, Madam, responded Holmes, is that this same rare leaf is also to be found on the hem of Mr. Epsteins right pant leg. With surprising deftness, Holmes spun around to Lonnie Epstein and held the magnifying glass over his pant leg. The implications are too obvious to require explanation.

Mr. Epstein turned to his shocked wife. Its not true, he pleaded. But she slapped his face and walked out. He hurried after her.

Pity, said Holmes, puffing mildly on his pipe.

Harriet Slavkin burst into tears and ran out as well.

Id had enough. Holmes, Im going to have to ask you to leave.

Yes, he replied, I suspected you would. Thats why I felt comfortable parking behind several other cars in the driveway, knowing I would be departing before them.

He beckoned to Watson, who reluctantly rose from the table. Holmes was about to walk out, when he stopped at the door and turned to everyone. By the way, he said., the afikomen is hidden under the middle cushion of the sofa bed in the guest room.

What a putz.