Sharp as a Bowling Ball

So we thought it's raining, cold, dark and the deciduous trees down our delightful tree-lined road are denuded for the winter. We'll get away with it, we thought, parking in our own road for once because all the other parking places are taken. But no. It just so happens that a large colony (the only one in the world) of the Greater Flustered Shi**ing-Albatrostrich roosts there, having out-competed the local Pterodactyls.
Invisible during the day, they feast on sheep, horses and feral council estate children from neighbouring counties and hide in our trees to digest and evacuate their evil spoils which can cover a family car in bird poo overnight. So when the Estate Agents said it was a "sought-after area", it was sadly only for ornithologists, guano-collectors and big game hunters who have pushed up local house prices solely due to the presence of these unique birds. At the school Xmas party I pigged out on free food and won a bouncy ball for Musical Statues even though the 'Scanners' (pupils employed to see if the contestants move) used rogue tactics.
Thursday park went ahead once the rain had stopped. We loitered and then the footballing hordes joined me but laughed at my wellies.
It is the shortest Thursday of the year and certainly got dark quickly but we soldiered on, playing by sense of smell and sonar. Once again the last tweenage oddities left us and we were the last there by a long chalk, we've got staying power.
I got banged in the mouth but I still haven't lost any teeth, Bob put on the woollen overgarments and looked like a ghostly mushroom and we all had a picnic in the dark.
Lucky we bought all those mats, we were super-muddy again.