“It’s called what?”
“Secret Santa,” said Adam.
“Why is it called that?” asked Eve.
“Well,” said Adam. “because it’s a secret.”
“And Santa?”
“I’m not sure, really” admitted Adam, “though whenever I hear the word I get an image in my head of a man with a beard, giving you stuff.”
“God, you mean,” said Eve.
“Not quite,” said Adam doubtfully. “Anyway, do you want to do it?”
“Guess so,” said Eve. “How does it work?”
“Well, you draw a name out of a hat -”
“What’s a hat?” asked Eve.
“It’s something you wear on cold days,” said Adam.
“What are cold days?” asked Eve.
Adam sighed. The perfection of the Garden of Eden very occasionally had its drawbacks.
“Forget that part,” said Adam, holding out one closed fist. “You can draw the name out of my hand.”
He opened the fist and Eve looked into his palm. “There’s only one piece of paper,” she said.
“Well, of course,” said Adam. “You can’t get yourself.”
Eve picked up the paper and opened it. “It’s you,” she said.
“You’re not supposed to tell,” said Adam. Eve glared at him. “This is a stupid idea,” she said.
“It’s tradition,” said Adam.
“Tradition?” snorted Eve. “This is year nought.”
“Well, traditions have to start somewhere,” said Adam. He picked up another piece of paper, and studied the name written there.
“Why, honey, whoever did you get?” asked Eve sweetly. Adam ignored her. “Meet you back here in an hour,” he said.
They met an hour later. “You go first,” said Eve, excitedly.
Adam handed her a fig-leaf.
“Seriously?” she said. “in a garden that has absolutely everything, including roses, diamonds, adorable kittens, and everything that you would need to build an iPhone 8, and I don’t even know what that last thing is, I just know that I want one, you decided to get me a leaf?” She sat it on the top of her head. “Perhaps I could wear it as a hat,” she said scornfully.
“I’m sorry,” said Adam. “For some reason I thought you’d really want it.”
Eve raised her eyes to heaven. “Look what I got you,” she said, handing him an apple. “It’s the only one of its kind.”
“Oh, wow.” said Adam, impressed. “You shouldn’t have.”
“You’re not wrong there,” muttered God, looking down unnoticed from above.
Adam and Eve sat in silence for a few moments. Then Eve spoke. “It’s strange,” she said, “but I suddenly feel that this fig-leaf is the best present anyone’s ever been given, ever.”
“Me too,” said Adam, surprised. “In fact, will you get me one for Christmas?”
Worth Doing Badly 