A/N: I had the idea for this one way back in summer when my friend's mom told me she used to buy a new pair of shoes with every pay cheque.
J: Honey, can I have a word?
L: You can have three. Go.
J: What? No! Unfair.
L: You're done.
J: Let me try again.
L: Fine.
J: Too many shoes!
L: What? That's crazy.
J: You have more shoes than clothes!
L: But…there are different kinds of shoes.
J: You have at least 15 pairs of black shoes alone.
L: Well, they're for different occasions.
J: I only have 3 pairs, scandals, trainers, and a good black leather pair. And frankly, I'm thinking of throwing out those scandals.
L: Good thing that, you wear scandals with socks on. What a fashion nightmare.
J: This isn't about me. You have to cut down. How the hell do you have so many?
L: - mumbles incoherently-
J: What was that sweetie?
L: I buy a new pair every pay cheque…
J: Oh bloody hell! You have to get rid of some of them!
L: But…what if we have a daughter? She might want the shoes. Then I'll have to tell her how her father made me throw out my Italian handmade leather pumps because he was feeling claustrophobic. She'll hate me forever!
J: What if she grows up to be a Goth and all she ever wears are big old combat boots?
L: Don't you -WHACK- say such a -WHACK- thing! -WHACK-
J: Ow, geeze Lily. Now I hope we have a boy. You know, this used to be a walk-in closet but nowadays if I try to walk into it I just get hurt by pointy shoes.
L: Tread carefully then.
J: Tread carefully? Look at this mess I can't even fit a finger in here.
L: -clears a small spot- You can put your finger here.
J: I can only fit my pinkie finger…and it's a tight fit -tries bringing finger out and nudges some boxes bringing a rain of shoes around him.-
L: Oh James! Are you all right?
J: - turning red- That is it! Either the shoes go or I do!
L: Well…
J: I can't believe you actually have to think about this.
L: I just can't take you seriously with a boot on your head.
J: There, is that better?
L: Much.
J: Alright then, how about a compromise? You go down to 7 pairs of black shoes or else I grow a mustache.
L: - gasps- You wouldn't!
J: Oh wouldn't I? Just imagine the scruffy goodness tickling your nose every time we kiss -twirling his imaginary mustache ends-
L: I give in! I'll go down to 7, I won't buy another pair for a year, I'll even buy a shoe rack! Just don't… -shudders-
J: That's more like it, now how about we go make that daughter of ours?
And that, ladies and gentlemen is how Harry was conceived.
The End
A/N: There you go. Hope you liked it. REVIEW!!!!!