Of course, I haven't been able to do much beside sit here and write and/or obsess over drabble voting. I had physical therapy for my costochondritis on Friday. The therapist decided to try something new--this battery-operated pain patch thing--UBER FAIL! I have a bruise from it, and had an allergic reaction to the adhesive, it hurts to breathe . . . :P I didn't even feel well enough to go to church this morning, and I missed MrWheezy conducting the choir. :( At least we have DVD's of the services . . .
On a positive note, I AM doing a lot of writing . . .
Squabbles, and Spiders, and Squibs, Oh My!
Ron had always thought it completely bloody wrong that Hugo was a Squib. He and Hermione had believed Hugo was just a late bloomer . . . until his Hogwarts’ letter failed to arrive. Hugo’s 11th birthday was one of the worst days in the life of the Weasley family. Thank Merlin Hermione had insisted Rose and Hugo attend Muggle Primary School. And thank Merlin for the Grangers. They had done an excellent job in assisting Hermione in tutoring Ron so he would not embarrass Hugo in front of his Muggle friends. Hugo attended University, earned several advanced degrees, and had a lovely girlfriend who Ron would not mind having for a daughter-in-law some day. Overall, everything had gone swimmingly . . . until now.
“I am NOT going, Hermione!”
“Ronald. You NEED to go. Hugo would be extraordinarily hurt if his father were absent on his big day.”
“Her-miii-ooo-neee!” Ron whined. “I’ve always been fine with our son being a miniature Muggle Hagrid. I didn’t say a word when we had to join the ZSL so Hugo could participate in their education programs. I have taken him to the London Zoo more times than I can count. I didn’t complain when he wanted to adopt Billy the ring-tailed lemur in honor of his Uncle Bill, even though I really hoped he would want to adopt Ronald the giraffe. But this is JUST TOO MUCH!”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Oh, Ron. It’s just a reception . . .”
“A reception! Is that what you call it!” Ron flapped the invitation in Hermione’s face and then began to read:
The University of Cambridge Institute of Zoology cordially invites you to the grand opening of Arachnid Adventure, the newest exhibit of the London Zoo. The designer and curator of Arachnid Adventure, Dr. Hugo Weasley, celebrated author, professor, and arachnidologist, will be honored at the opening reception and be available to answer any questions . . .
“Blah, Blah, Blah . . . Our son plays with effing spiders for a living! What did I ever do to deserve this! It’s just wrong!”
Hermione rubbed Ron’s back, attempting to calm him. “Oh Ron, you always said the same thing about Hugo’s being a Squib . . .”
“Well, two wrongs don’t make a right, Hermione!”
Hermione sighed. “That’s not how that expression is used, Ron.”
“I don’t care! I’m just not going!”
Hermione wrapped her arms around Ron’s waist and cuddled into his chest. “If you come to Hugo’s reception, I promise I will make it VERY worthwhile for you . . .”
“Yeah?” Ron was trying to resist, but Hermione was doing some very distracting things to him.
“Well, fine. I’ll go. But it’s still wrong that my only son loves spiders, of all things!”
Hermione just nodded, and continued her strategy of taking Ron’s mind off of spiders.