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I'd better finish this bit of my story as you're probably wondering what happens next. I left you (well me actually) in the kitchen searching for my Christmas presents...
So, downstairs the moon is shining through the kitchen window, making everything sparkly. I flash my head-torch over by the washing machine and startle Serena the cat out of her basket. She miaows loudly.
'Sorry, Serena-let me just look in here,' and I pull the blanket off her suspiciously high bed and-BINGO! 'Got them!'
The presents are wrapped but I can tell what they are. They are always the same; books and an educational game. I put them back with a note:
"Dear Father Christmas
I would like a motorised toboggan
Thankyou
From Wilfred"
Course, I don't believe in Father Christmas but I hope that on Planet-Parents, they take the hint. I am about to go back to bed and think about snow, when I trip over Serena's food bowl. She is still complaining and pawing at my leg.
'Do you want some food, Serena?'
'Miaow!' This means, yes but I can't find the catfood.
'Do you want something intersting to eat?'
'Miaow!!'
I take half a tin of baked beans out of the fridge and mash them up with some potatoe and trifle. Then I add some brown sauce for luck. Serena sniffs at it and then gobbles it down. I eat the rest of the trifle and go back to bed. Job done. Just needs to snow now.
Wilf
1 comment:
I know how you feel about Father Christmas, Wilf.
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