|josiahagravaine (josiahagravaine) wrote in after_the_bombs,|
@ 2012-07-25 19:34:00
It was supposed to have been a friendly game. It was supposed to have been relaxing. It had started out that way but things had quickly degenerated as the referee who wasn't supposed to be refereeing and the pro-player who was supposed to have been taking it easy as she technically on the disabled list due to an incident with two Bludgers and a randomly thrown beer bottle slipped into old patterns and began arguing loudly in midair.
Sammy, Bobby and the girls who normally made up Uncle Josiah's children's league team hovered on their brooms and watched this broo-ha-ha with great interest. They were learning all sorts of words that their parents weren't likely to appreciate. The gestures accompanying the words were also highly educational.
Sammy was busily taking diligent notes about the whole thing. Bobby rolled his eyes at his little brother. Only Sammy would be foolish enough to have written evidence of such interesting stuff. He rolled his eyes even harder as a chorus of giggles erupted around them when Aunt James kissed Uncle Josiah to get him to stop quoting International Quidditch Rules at her.
“Idjits,” he muttered, “I'm surrounded by idjits.”