burning underpants

I was a bit crap at work today having stayed up late to finish the latest Harry Potter - ripping good yarn...

I was introduced to the HP phenomenon by my sister-in-law a couple of years before it hit international cult frenzy status. I remember a dinner a where the lovely T raved about this fab new book, about a boy wizard that all the kids at school (she was a kindy teacher) were getting into. We thought she was getting a bit carried away and forgot all about it until she gave us the first book for Christmas.

I got sucked in and had a great time procrastinating with the second and third books when I was supposed to be writing my thesis at uni. Since then I've read each one as it's come out.

I was discussing the books with a literary mate of mine the other day who lamented she'd never really understood what all the fuss was about and couldn't really bring herself to read the books as they don't have beautiful sentences...

Well maybe not beautiful - but how can you beat:

The smell from the kitchen was getting stronger; it was something like burning underpants.