High drama here at Dume Towers.
Caligula, the mischievous little tyke, has summoned the legions of Hell into his bedroom. His mother is hysterical because she thinks she’ll have to cook for them all and I had to have one of those father-son chats.
I told him he had been very naughty and that if he wanted a sleepover with his friends he had to ask his mother first. It was his duty to tell his friends they could not stay and that they should arrange transport home.
In the end it worked out okay. The north of Scotland in late November is nowhere near warm enough for creatures brought up surrounded by fire so they went back of their own accord.
I have confiscated his grimoires for now but being a caring parent I won’t deprive him of them for too long. I don’t want to be accused of child abuse.
Although if there was ever a child that deserved it…