Alright guys, we're getting onto a new lesson, one that causes hours of distress and annoyance, as well as a potential cold shoulder while she does whatever it is that you failed. I've received this one so many times its depressing, but I've also managed to escape out of it more than any other phrase. The key to this one is quite simple, back tracking. Being with a bird will teach you how to do that shockingly well. I'm serious as well, if back tracking was an Olympic sport, I could win the gold.

The words that have caused me to increase my skill in back tracking is quite simple:

Please Do:

First and most important to understand is that this is not a statement, it is an offer.

A woman (yours specifically) is giving you the chance to come up with whatever excuse or reason you have for doing whatever it is that you have done so terribly wrong. You have a fair chance to tell the truth, so be careful and you shouldn't get a "That's Okay."

I first was introduced to this little gem of a word when I was dating my beautiful wife. I was helping her to move her furniture out of Harry and Ron's apartment into an apartment that Ginny, Luna, and her were now sharing. She was putting her plates in a cabinet while Ginny was putting items away in the bedroom, Luna had taken residence in the bathroom, and I was in the living room, putting her many books back on the shelves.

Now, I don't really read. I've never found it particularly thrilling, and honestly, I'd rather use my free time doing other things. Hermione, however, loves books. No, honestly, love is just not a strong enough word to describe the devotion she has too her books. If she had to choose between saving my life, or her books, well, I just better hope whatever it is that is threatening me is something I can handle, or that George pops up to help save me.

I was putting her books up, one after the other, not looking at the covers or titles because I just didn't care. I was feeling annoyed at my brothers and Harry for flaking out on helping, and was contemplating ways of getting out of this myself, when I heard a startled gasp followed by a yelp. I dropped the book in my hand and straightened up, my hand flying to the wand in my pocket in alarm as I spun around to see what the impending danger was, and to take whatever that danger proved to be, out.

Hermione, my dear girl friend of two months, was standing behind me, her hand on her mouth and a look of utter shock on her pretty face. I spun back around, my wand now out and aimed at the book shelf, my eyes searching for some sort of danger. The only thing there were the books I had been stacking. Nothing even remotely dangerous.

I turned back towards her and stowed my wand back in my pocket, a frown on my face as I looked at her. "Hermione?" I asked tentatively, sensing something was wrong. "What is it, love?"

I don't know why me, and every other one of us blokes does this. Any time we think we are in trouble we instantly pull out the pet names for them. It never works, it usually just backfires on us.

Her eyes narrowed and she dropped her hand, stepping towards me with an extremely disapproving look. "What." She said fiercely, poking my chest with her index finger, "Do you think you are doing to my books?"

I looked down at her and blinked owlishly, (not a good response by the way blokes) before looking back at the book shelf. "I was putting them on the shelf, love." I answered, looking back at her with a hopeful smile.

She frowned even more and stepped closer, which I normally would have enjoyed, now though, it just scared me.

"Why are you putting them like that though!"

"Umm," I started, glancing at the books again, "I can explain?" I offered, turning back to her with a hopeful look. She furrowed her brow and stepped back, crossing her arms.

"Please do."

That, my fellow blokes, is why you don't want to lie. She will call your bluff, and laugh at you when you try to get out of it. Women seem to enjoy this immensely, it's almost inhumane.

I looked back at the book shelf and let my eyes scan the titles. Nope, there was no sense to that arrangement. Color wouldn't work either…

Bingo.

I turned back to her, a triumphant grin on my face. "They are in size order." Her eyes shot back to the shelf and she studied it for a moment. Sure enough, I had unthinkingly put the tallest books on one side, and the shorter on the other. A small grin tugged her lip up and she turned back to me.

"Alright, I prefer them to be in alphabetical though." She said quietly. I beamed back at her and nodded my head.

"I can do that, love."

I turned back to the book shelf and bent to pick up another book she stalled me with a hand on my forearm. I turned to face her and smiled at the soft look in her eyes.

"Thanks, Fred."

That brings me to the closure of this lesson, with one final definition that doesn't require a chapter.

Thanks:

A woman is thanking you. Do not faint, just say you're welcome.

A/N: I'm back! I finally got this one posted :) I hope you all enjoy it!