Bloody Teenagers

My niece Eleanor is going to be sixteen in a couple of weeks time. And before you all point the finger and say: 'ooh, he must be old,' my aunt Emma (technically my dad's cousin, but the point is the same) is three years younger than me. We're an odd lot that way.

But I digress. My niece is going to be sixteen and she's not getting anything from me to celebrate the day. Oh no. And there is a simple reason for this hard-heartedness on my part.

During the week from hell, in one of many interludes, I noticed that my little brother Duncan (who is bigger than me) was reading the latest Harry Potter. Not having had the pleasure yet myself, I asked him not to tell me how it ended. Cue Eleanor, stomping into the room like a teenager, flopping heavily into an armchair, grabbing the book and saying: 'I've read this.' as if it were some notable achievement.

I knew what was coming next, so before she could spoil it, I asked her not to tell me what happens. Cue next teenager stomping into the room. This time it's her brother's friend, Teddy, who's at Harrow and in the main quite uncharacteristic of both breeds (teenagers and Harrovians, although come to think of it, they are always polite and eager to please up there on the hill). Having only heard part of the conversation, Teddy announced that he didn't mind if Eleanor wanted to tell him what happened. Actually, I think Teddy has a bit of a crush on Eleanor, but we won't go into that here.

Now I'm still in the room, and still in plain sight of Eleanor at this point. But she proceeds to tell Teddy, in a voice much louder and clearer than her normal teenage monosyllabic grunt, exactly what happens at the end of the latest Harry Potter.

Thanks Eleanor.

It's probably not going to ruin the story too much for me, and I really should have expected it to happen sooner or later. But I'm a vindictive bastard, so Eleanor's going to have to wait at least a week after the date for her birthday present. And even then it'll probably be socks.

Bloody Teenagers.