Showing posts with label stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stories. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Robocopters and Pink Pumps


“HELLO LORD.  THIS IS YOUR FRIEND JAMES SPEAKING”

Robocopters and Pink Pumps


Hello Lord
This is your friend James speaking. I wanted to ask you about money. You see there’s this boy in my class called Peter and he has a Robocopter. Now he said that I can’t play with them unless I have a Robocopter too. I asked mom and she said, No.

So it’s up to you Lord. What’s it going to be? Do I get a Robocopter or not? I think it would be a very small thing for you to do seeing as you made stars and planets and the whole universe. Mom says it’s just a craze and the next thing will be yo-yos. Well, I don’t have a yo-yo either. Mine broke. So you might want to think about that one.

Oh and another thing. Please don’t let mom buy me any more clothing and say it’s a present. Clothing just can never be a present. Clothing isn’t a toy. Please help mom to see this clearly.
Thank you and Amen.

The Problem with Paul


“HELLO LORD,
THIS IS YOUR FRIEND JAMES SPEAKING”

The Problem With Paul



Hello Lord,
This is your friend James speaking. I have to talk to you about a guy in my class called Paul. He is very irritating. He is always pushing other kids around. So I think you should do something about him - nothing serious like in the Old Testament days. I know you can destroy a whole city with lightning bolts and you made a whale swallow a guy. But maybe you could make Paul go to another school or stop his pocket money.
Thanks and Amen.

Secret Treasures


Secret Treasures


Anthony remembered watching his grandfather painting. There was the smell of oil paints and thinners and the sounds of the brush swishing and grandfather humming. Grandfather used a wooden box to store his paints. Anthony loved the squishy tubes and bright colours.

When his grandfather died, the box and an old painting were given to Anthony with a note that said, “You will know what to do with these.”

“What old junk!” Anthony’s brother said scornfully.

Anthony ran upstairs and banged the door to his room. He gripped the box and painting tightly while hot tears ran down his cheeks.

His mom came in and hugged him.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “Your brother is going through a difficult stage.”

“Mom, I need a hammer,” Anthony said.

“What for?” his mom asked suspiciously.

“To hang the picture,” Anthony said.

Then they both looked at each other and smiled.

He was banging a hook into his wall when part of the plaster fell away. He found that one of the bricks underneath was loose and carefully he edged it out.

“Perfect,” he said and slid the wooden box into the space left by the brick.

He banged another nail into the wall and hung the painting over the hole. This way, mom would not get upset, and he had a secret hiding place.

Monday, November 22, 2010

Mrs Freakle Finally Freaks Out!


Mrs Freakle looked like everyone else’s mom. In fact people were always stopping her and saying, “Aren’t you Mrs Smith” or “Aren’t you Mrs Jones” and she would say politely, “No I’m Mrs Freakle”.
Then they would say, “Who?”

Mrs Freakle was a very good mom. She cooked wonderful, tasty dinners. She washed the very dirty clothes of her four very naughty boys and she even cleaned up the dog poop!

But one day, Mrs Freakle finally freaked out. It wasn’t anything big. It was just one of those little things that made her finally explode like a volcano.

Mrs Freakle had been busy experimenting with her plant extracts in her basement. She had mixed special ingredients for a spray that would make her flowers bloom beautifully.

There was a puff of pink smoke, then a puff of purple smoke and a weird goopy green liquid oozed into her spray bottle.

“Hmm, not quite what I expected,” Mrs Freakle said, “But I will test it out.”

She hurried outside to try out her new garden spray. It was kind of oozy and instead of spray, it puffed out a yellowish vapour.

Then, before Mrs Freakle’s surprised eyes, the flower she sprayed shrank smaller and smaller until it was the size of her little finger.

“My goodness!” she said.

Charlie the little boy next door was peeping over the fence. He grinned with no front teeth because he was only five.

“Wow!” he said.

“Ssh Charlie,” Mrs Freakle said.

She heard Charlie’s mother yelling, “Charles Stromberg! You get off that wall right this minute!”

Charlie’s mother was not very patient.

“Bye,” Charlie said.
“Bye,” said Mrs Freakle looking at her plant spray.

That evening, Mr Freakle, came home from work as he usually did. He sat in his favourite armchair with a six-pack of Icy Pops – his favourite sodas and said, “What’s for dinner?” as he usually did.

Little Tommy Freakle said, “I hope it’s not that disgusting meatloaf again.”

And Mr Freakle and the four little Freakles all laughed very rudely.

Mrs Freakle’s dinners were always good and tasty. But that day at the school bake sale, her cake had been the last one to be sold and all the ladies had left her to do all the cleaning up and so Tommy Freakle’s rude words were the last straw.

Mrs Freakle shouted at the top of her voice, “You are the rudest most horrible, mean family in the world!”

She still had the goopy plant spray in her hand and she sprayed all of them. Instantly the whole Freakle family shrank to the size of your little finger and Mrs Freakle popped them all into a shoebox.

“Now you can learn some manners!” she said.

They squeaked and hopped like little mice, but it was no good. Mrs Freakle gave them a cupcake to share and a thimble of milk and then she left the shoebox on the table and went to bed.

The moon was a silver slice in the dark sky and thousands of stars were shining. Mrs Freakle thought how beautiful they were and how peaceful her house was and she fell fast asleep.

The next day, Mrs Freakle went back to her basement to work on an antidote to her shrinking spray. She was a good mother after all and didn’t mean to leave the family shrunken forever.

But she forgot that Mrs Meddle was popping over to collect jumble for the church bazaar.

“Hello Mrs Freakle,” Mrs Meddle called as she walked in through the front door, “Just collecting for the church bazaar.”

“It’s all in the hall,” Mrs Freakle called back, “Can you take it? I’m just in the middle of something.”

Mrs Freakle was in fact in the middle of a huge vat of dandelion flowers that she was stomping. She was covered in green goop.

“Thank you,” Mrs Meddle called and off she went.

Mrs Freakle didn’t think about this until later in the day when she decided she had finally got the antidote right.

She went outside to test the spray on her flowers. She sprayed the one she had shrunk and a greenish vapour covered it and it grew back to normal size.

“Hooray!” she said. And got a fright when Charlie from next door said, “Wow!” again.

“Charlie, you must stop spying on me,” Mrs Freakle said.

“I’m bored,” he said, with no front teeth, “Come over and spray my mom!”

“Charlie!” Mrs Freakle said, “I can’t do that! At least, not today. Bye!”

And she rushed back inside to spray her family back to normal size.

It was then she realized that Mrs Meddle had taken the shoebox containing her family to the church bazaar.

“Oh dear,” said Mrs Freakle.

She had a cup of tea and decided what to do. Did she really want her family back? She thought of her husband and his Icy Pops and her children with their rude shouting and the dogs that pooped in the hall.

“Right,” she said to the empty house, “We have to do it. Goodbye peace and quiet.”

And Mrs Freakle took her antidote spray and rushed off to the church bazaar.

The church was very busy. There were people having tea and cake and selling second-hand books and brand new vegetables.

Mrs Freakle looked and looked. No shoebox.

She saw kids playing games and grannies gossiping. No shoebox.

She saw pony rides and toys. And then she saw the shoebox.

It was under the arm of a little girl with brown pigtails who was holding onto her mother’s hand. The little girl and her mother were having a big argument.

“But I want the little dollies,” the little girl was crying.

“No, Samantha,” her mother said, “You have too many dolls at home.”

“But these are the best,” the little girl cried, “They’re alive.”

Mrs Freakle could see the mother was just about to give in because she was tired and fed up, so she rushed over and said,

“I’m so sorry, this was my box. It was collected by mistake – it’s not supposed to be for sale.”

“You see,” the little girl’s mother said and tried to take the box. But the little girl hung on tightly. “They’re real!” she yelled.

It was a shoebox tug-‘o-war! And then the shoebox broke in half.

Mrs Freakle gasped. Her tiny family and dog fell out onto the grass.

Quickly she picked them up and popped them all into her pocket.

“So sorry,” she said to the mother and the crying little girl and hurried home.

She could hear squeaking noises from inside her pocket, but she didn’t stop until she got home and shut the front door.

Then she put her noisy, rude family on the carpet and sprayed them with the antidote.

They all shot up to normal size and were amazingly quiet and well-behaved.

After all, as Mrs Freakle reminded them, they could have ended up in a little girl’s dolls’ house – not much fun for four naughty boys – or their father – or their messy pups!

.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Toddler logic

There's no such thing as too loud.

The view is much better at the top of the ladder.

Many hands make a nice, big mess!

Any time not spent on a swing is time wasted.

Anything green was not meant to be eaten.

The best way to enjoy spaghetti and tomato sauce is to rub it on your hands, hair, arms, legs and closest relative.

Beds were made for bouncing, not sleeping.

There is no such thing as too many cartoons.

Noses were made to run, smell and stick in the cake.

The best outfit to collect snails and frogs is your Sunday dress.

What goes up doesn't always come down - especially if it is wet toilet paper.

If you mix flour and water, it makes a good glue and carpet grout.

Spitting is not only for cleaning teeth.

Smaller children can make good squeaky toys.

Mum's starting time improves with every pee on the floor.

It's much easier to give the cat milk straight out of the jug.

Squishy food is fun!

You can tell mum's favourite things from that expression on her face.

A pair of scissors in the hand is worth two lollipops in the car.

You can always fall asleep after mum's favourite movie.

There is no such thing as too many stories at bedtime.

If they teach you to walk on a balance beam, why can't you walk on the neighbours' wall?

They put fish in open tanks so you can try to catch them.

Grannies make the best accomplices, allies and scapegoats.

It's more fun to wait until mum's face goes red before doing what she wants.

(See more "Toddler Logic" on the Story Page)