“Sixteen’s a bit old for this, isn’t it?”

“It’s tradition, Mum. Every winter it snows, I make a snowman.”

“Very nice, dear. I’m going inside.”

Alone, she took the final item from her coat and fixed it in place, then stood back, admiring her work.

“This year’s is definitely different!” she giggled, and skipped inside.

At midnight, like previous years, she heard snowfeet on the stairs. She threw the sheets off, parting her legs, ready – so ready!

The door opened and she gasped.

Perhaps that cucumber was a little ambitious, she thought, faced with her magical snowman’s cock.