Disclaimers: I do not own The Lord of the Rings. The Lord of the Rings and other Middle-earth works belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, Peter Jackson, New Line Cinema, Warner Brothers, Turbine and Standing Stones Games. All other canon material belongs to their respected owners. All original material—original characters, original locations, etc.—belongs to me, the authoress of this fanfiction story.

Summary: One winter's evening, eleven-year-old Frodo Baggins ends up snowed in at his parents' house in Buckland. It is here that Frodo comes to terms with his father and his mother, no matter the odds.

Inspiration for Fanfic: A Christmas episode from Disney's television show, "The Suite Life of Zack and Cody".

Warning! This chapter is rated T for mild sensual references.

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Frodo sat in his room, admiring the snow from the windowsill. He was eleven years old and wanted nothing more than to leave his parents' hobbit hole and explore the snowy Buckland landscape! It wasn't enough that he was snowed in. He just wanted to have fun! Even if it meant that fun couldn't be had in Buckland.

Still, he ran outside his room, minding his steps as he slid across the wooden floors. As he ran through the house, debating on what to do, he was stopped by his mother, who glowered at him.

"Frodo, don't run!" Primula Baggins told him. His mother was very precarious when it came to her floors being clean. Primula sighed, approaching her son and wiping the dirt off his brand-new white shirt. She sighed, telling him in a warm voice, "Please, don't play out in the snow, dressed like this. Wear your jacket, waistcoat, and your cloak, before you go out to play."

Frodo sighed. At least, they were on good terms. "Thank you, mum. I will." He nodded, making his way into his bedroom, griping. Did he really have to wear his jacket and his waistcoat, before stepping outside? Still, he put them on, but his mother couldn't help but fuss with his clothes.

"I don't want you to catch cold," his mother said.

Frodo nodded, huffing, "I know, mum." He jerked her hand away, but still she fussed with him. "Let me go outside!"

His mum sighed, telling him, "All right. Just don't catch cold!"

"I won't, mum! I won't!" Frodo rushed towards the door. He opened it, finding there was snow covering the walkway for about five feet. Frodo closed the door, deciding then it wasn't the best time to go outside.

"Yeah! Grab the shovels and get us out of this mess!" Drogo Baggins, Frodo's father, called out to the gardeners.

Frodo huffed. This wasn't good.

Here, Frodo was expecting to go outside and explore more of Buckland, before the night was over. Now, that there was a snow bank outside, it made travel worse. Did this mean he was stuck inside with his parents? Oh ho, he wondered that as he looked at his mum, who shrugged her shoulders.

"These things happen," Primula said, approaching him and wrapping her arms around him. "Now, you're stuck with me!" She smiled, enjoying this.

Frodo squirmed. "Get off me!"

Primula looked down at him, kissing the top of his curly, dark brunette hair. "Now, is that any way to treat your mother?"

"Yeah! That's it! Keep at it!" Drogo called out to the gardeners and other Bucklanders, as they prepared their shovels. He watched the gardeners and Bucklanders work quickly at the snow, plowing it away bit by bit. Still, the snow came until it stopped. Now, the work could be much easier on everyone.

Primula held Frodo in her arms, leading him over to the bench, where she wrapped her arms around him.

"Mum! I'm fine!" Frodo squirmed, wanting to get away.

"Now, what's wrong? Don't you love your mummy?" Primula said, kissing his cheek.

Frodo stared off into the distance, a disgusted expression on his face. He hated this cuddling. He wanted to get away from her, so he could play outside. Did he have to wait until the snow was gone, before he could play? It seemed that way!

Oh, anything was better than being coddled by his mother!

"Yeah! Keep at it! I'll watch here until you return!" Drogo cried, yelling at the gardeners as they kept working at the door.

"I'm sure your father will be fine," Primula stated with joy. Frodo looked at her with his disgusted expression. He did not want to held by her like a five-year-old. Primula sighed, kissing him on the cheek. "You'll be fine. Trust me. Your father knows what he is doing."

Frodo stared at her, impatiently waiting to get free of her. It didn't work! He ended up sticking with his mother for who knew how long it had been. An hour or two? He squirmed out of his mother's arms the minute he had to use the restroom. And so, he ran off, wriggling free from her arms as he ran into the bathroom.

Frodo worked quickly to get on the toilet and do his business. He sighed in relief, grateful he made it in time. He finished up in the bathroom, washing and drying his hands, before departing from the bathroom.

By the time he got out of the bathroom, he was free to wander outside. He was no longer snowed in! It relieved him immensely.

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Thanks for reading. :)