It came upon a tree skirt clear.
Or Potter did, rather. We've had to make use of a fair amount of Invisibility Potion every time we felt keen on shagging near the Christmas tree, as we were nearly caught on several occasions by short and evil gremlins who refuse to stay in bed for a full night, despite the fact that Father Christmas isn't due to show up with piles of presents for nearly two full weeks. Clearly, My Angels have inherited Potter's sense of logic.
Right now, however, shagging would prove entirely too strenuous. Today, we ventured to the scene of the crime---I mean, the duck pond---for recreation purposes. To the dismay of many displaced ducks, the rotten weather has caused the pond to freeze over quite early this year, which means that ice skating season is in full swing. Potter has thankfully improved his technique . . . to a point . . . but this didn't exactly help us dodge the out of control brats intent on colliding with our legs at high speeds. It's one thing when the crash involves one's own children, but to become a target for everyone else's demon spawn simply because we're two of the very few adults with enough bollocks to get on the ice? These Muggles are lucky I didn't hex the lot of them, frankly. Only Mother's presence on the sidelines with Lambchop in her lap stilled my hand.
Now that I'm warm and dry and sucking down cocoa as fast as Potter can supply it, I still haven't got any goodwill toward the miserable beasts. We ought to have gone to Hogwarts, instead.
Right now, however, shagging would prove entirely too strenuous. Today, we ventured to the scene of the crime---I mean, the duck pond---for recreation purposes. To the dismay of many displaced ducks, the rotten weather has caused the pond to freeze over quite early this year, which means that ice skating season is in full swing. Potter has thankfully improved his technique . . . to a point . . . but this didn't exactly help us dodge the out of control brats intent on colliding with our legs at high speeds. It's one thing when the crash involves one's own children, but to become a target for everyone else's demon spawn simply because we're two of the very few adults with enough bollocks to get on the ice? These Muggles are lucky I didn't hex the lot of them, frankly. Only Mother's presence on the sidelines with Lambchop in her lap stilled my hand.
Now that I'm warm and dry and sucking down cocoa as fast as Potter can supply it, I still haven't got any goodwill toward the miserable beasts. We ought to have gone to Hogwarts, instead.