Harry Potter and the Revenge in the Hallway
I read the first Harry Potty book. Are you happy? It wasn’t that bad, wasn’t as dull as I remembered. Some parts were even mildly amusing. I may read the second one.
And, for the record, there was absolutely no dampness in my eyes the entire time, not even the kind caused by flying popcorn.
I haven’t dropped my toast--or my bread--lately, and I’ve been pretty proud of myself. But this morning, I filled my coffee filter in the office kitchen. I started back to my office and closed the kitchen door behind me. Except, as you must know already, I let the filter slip out of my hand, and every last grain of coffee spilled on the floor.
My poor toe. In our bedroom, the bathroom is down a short hallway. Of course, we use the hallway for storing all sorts of things, most of which are hazardous in the middle of the night when you have just gotten up to go to the bathroom.
I headed back to bed a couple of nights ago, and my foot slammed right into something hard. It was, of course, the new Harry Potty book.
I thought I heard a voice. “Ha! Got you, you damn Muggle.”