Friday, January 30, 2009

Bye For Now


I am very very busy building new inventions with Granpa Jack and dad is paying me actual money to catalogue his teeth. It is all go and that is even without George and his savage stick-insect-eating ways. So it is bye for now until I come back.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

I Have No Mercy

So, Mum is going out to the first Parent- teacher meeting in 2009. This is where she will shout at the new Parent-Governor, Dexter's Dad, Dave Dooley about eating too many sweets and keeping his bungalows out of school. I am glad I am not there because she has also begun a class in Karate. The election has definitely brought out a difficult side to her.
Anyway, she has left me in charge of my brother, George. Actually she left Dad in charge of George but he is Very Busy making important modifications to my Scalectrix track and Cannot Be Disturbed.
'Come on, George,' I say, 'let's go upstairs and play with my Dick Tracy set.' This is what Grandpa Jack gave me for Christmas. He says he had to stop using it because there were complaints from the other residents in his, Home for Retired Gentlefolk. So now I've got it.
After Dad's major explosion last week, I am not taking any chances with being seen. George starts off the first step okay but then gets stuck.
'Wait a minute,' I say and run up stairs. I find my cat, Serena lolling about on my bed and carry her like a baby. She sits at the top of the stairs watching him struggle and saying nothing. George begins scaling the stairs like a mini James Bond. He is also giggling and stops every so often to point at Serena. He is in love with her. She is never impressed with him.
Just before he can grab her, she gets up and says, 'My work here is done,' and heads for the spare room. As soon as she is out of sight, George forgets about her and starts examining the carpet for cat bits.
'Are you ready for some target practise, George?' I whisper. 'You're the Evil Henchman and I'm Dick Tracy.'
I stand at the end of the landing and take aim with my tag dart gun. The Evil Henchman dribbles. The doorbell rings and the dart hits the wall. I reload. The Evil Henchman has picked up some bits from the floor and is eating them. I cannot wait for blood poisoning to take him out so I try a head shot.
'WILFRED!' Dad calls. 'WHAT ARE YOU DOING?'
'Nothing!'
The dart lands on the bathroom door. Evil Henchman is holding arms up in pathetic surrender but I have no mercy.
Reload. Aim. Fire.
'GRANDPA JACK IS HERE!'
'Coming.' Yes. The dart has brought down the enemy. Another case solved.

Friday, January 09, 2009

My Dad and Other Explosions



My Dad says that, 'you're developing a bit of an attitude there, Wilfred. I don't like the way you keep telling your brother what to do.'
'How else is he going to learn?' I ask. 'I have only shot him twice with my dart-tag-super-gun (present from Granpa Jack, yay) and he actually LIKES it.'
'There you go again,' he says and now he is all twitchy, 'answering back!' He is jigging from one foot to the other. 'In my day children were told things and they nodded their heads to show they understood.'
'I do understand,' I say and I nod my head for good measure. 'You're just wrong.'
Dad puffs up, turns red and blows a fuse. 'Just think of all the starving orphans in this world, Wilfred!' I give this idea a good go but I am not sure how it is the same as me shooting George. 'Think how lucky you are! My goodness, if you were living in Victorian times you'd most likely be beaten or badly maimed for answering back. One day you'll be in my trousers, Wilfred,' I shudder. 'When I think of all ...' and he's off, thinking out loud of all the things I should be grateful for. I wander off for a quick play with my scalectrix.
Happy New Year.