chapter thirteen.
I'm back at home right now, and it's been a down right fiasco. And on my first full day of holidays, too.
I got here yesterday 'round five. Gran picked me up and lectured me all the way back to our house about how the school contacted her about my detention, and how that, while she thought me liking a girl was 'cute', it was inappropriate to sneak into classrooms waiting to 'profess my love' to that girl. But that wasn't even that big of a deal…
Part of the disaster falls on Trevor's shoulders, if toads have shoulders. It's because of him that Gran and I had almost been turned into rhyming-fiends.
It all started at breakfast, Gran made a huge meal to celebrate my first day back. She made all of my favourites: bacon, eggs, toast with jams of all flavours, pancakes…and a lot more. Anyway, Trevor was in my pocket, and of course, jumped out. Spilling a vat of syrup all over the table. Gran was furious, this syrup, apparently, was very expensive. It cost over ten galleons. I wanted to ask her why she'd bother buying such expensive pancake condiments, but she wouldn't listen to me. She just ranted on about Trevor.
I told her it wasn't his fault when she finally let me have a word, but she shouted that it was nonsense. But in the middle of her shouting, she stopped because we heard some sort of poem coming from somewhere.
Gran looked down at the table and almost fell backwards. The silverware, plates, anything that the syrup had touched had grown a mouth and was speaking in limericks.
Gran, obviously horrified that the syrup would drip to the floor, scrogified the pants off that table. But it was too late.
Boards from the wooden floor grew odd looking mouths and starting limericking about random things. I told them to shut up, so they made a poem up about my large ears.
Gran was having a panic attack or something by this time. To me, it wasn't that big of a deal, I like poems.
She called the Ministry through Floo-Powder, and it took ten Ministry wizards to shut our dining room up.
Now Gran's got an inquiry with the Ministry because of the cursed-syrup.
Can you imagine if we had eaten that?
This'll be a long holiday.