Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Daniel Radcliffe is Pretty Ancient Now

Before I show you my photos from my enforced holiday, I have to tell you my latest plan. The Parents are having a new baby-child before Christmas and this, according to Dexter, is just like Jesus. I am not keen on having a baby, let alone a beardy-baby like Jesus but there we are. I am quite keen on building an underground room for myself so that I do not have to endure all the wailing and crying. It is unfortunate that I do not have a room on the ground floor because if I start digging now I will have to drop down through the sitting room and I think someone would notice. So, I am going to begin under the stairs. No one will see me there because it is already full of useless stuff that might come in handy one day AND if I am caught, I can just inform The Parents that I am rehearsing for the part of Harry Potter (they will love that) because Daniel Radcliffe is pretty ancient now and will probably want to retire before long.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Unfortunately I Have To Go To New York

Yes, it is true. Before Mum gets too large and the airlines refuse to have her on a plane, The Parents have decided to take me to New York. Not the Florida Space Centre but New York where there is no Space Centre. But there we are. I will take some photographs of some interesting stuff and tell you about it. Here is a photograph I did not take but it looks quite good, so maybe it will be fun even without the Space Centre.

Sunday, October 14, 2007

It Is A Hazard With This Experiment

'FIRE! FIRE!' Jaspar screams out of the window, as though the black smoke pouring out of the house is not a big clue.
I ignore Jaspar's girl shrieks, take off my t-shirt and tie it round my nose and mouth. I can still hear the fire engine rumbling next door, putting out the bacon butty fire with real firefighters and professional water. I wonder for a second if I am doing the sensible thing. But HA! Is James Bond sensible? Is Superman sensible? Is Captain Underpants sensible? I THINK NOT. You would not catch one of them saying, "Hang on a mo, I had better leave this to someone who fights fires for an actual job."
Wilf the Wonderboy finds the back door and boldly knocks it down (it is open really). He strides like a complete non-sensible hero into a swirling fog of black smoke. He fights with a terrified wild animal and throws it into the wilderness (Blessed, the supremely fluffy white cat is a bit upset). He is about to hurl himself up the raging fiery stairway when he realises that there is no fire.
'PUT IT OUT!!' scream Jaspar from his bedroom retreat. 'I DIDN'T MEAN IT!'
I am utterly and absolutely amazed at what I see but first things first. I run up the stairs and just about drag Jaspar into the hall. 'I know what you were doing.'
Now it is Jaspar's turn to look utterly and totally amazed. 'You do??' He grabs my arm, 'you know about the first smoke-jack invented in 1770 by Peter Clare?'
I nod. 'I have made one of those but never that big and always in the back garden.'
'All that smoke, I thought I'd set fire to the whole house!'
'It is a hazard with this experiment,' I say, wisely.
There is the scrape of car tyres on gravel and the slamming of doors, followed by wailing. We both look at one another.
'My child! Where is my child?' MAC is on her way round the back.
'What about my child?' I can hear Mum saying.
Jaspar's eyes are big and round. 'You won't mention it then?' he says, 'Mum will FREAK!' I would quite like to see that but I can see he is close to pleading.
'Not for now,' I say. 'Not for as long as I can eat things without fear of bogies being added or go to sleep in beds free from toads and...'
'OK, I understand,' says Jaspar. 'It's a deal,' and he actually puts out his hand and we shake on it.
Jaspar and me reach the back door just as MAC and Mum turn up with a firefighter in tow.
'You alright, son?' he asks Jaspar. 'The smoke from these bacon butty fires can be quite nasty.'
'Yeah, I think it scared Blessed,' says Jaspar shuffling his feet around.
'What about you, Wilfred?' asks Mum.
'I was not scared at all, Mum,' I say, 'No we just fine, aren' t we, Jaspar?'
And I believe he smiles at me.

Saturday, October 06, 2007

"to rescue or not to rescue?'

So, here I am, with the bacon butty fire on the rage next door and my evil cousin, Jaspar raging in doors and I am thinking quite carefully about the question of,

"to rescue or not to rescue?"

I sit down and ponder the benefits of actually rescuing the evil one:

1. I will be a hero but I will not brag about it, just let it seep out so that one day at school, Dexter will point at a copy of the Stroud News and Journal I have left lying accidentally around and cry, 'Wilf, did you rescue that boy?'
And I will probably blush a bit and do a down-turned grin and say 'yes, it was nothing' in an offhand sort of way, 'let us continue playing conkers and not think about my utter bravery'.
But Dexter will throw down his champion golden nugget conker at my feet and say, 'you are fantastic and everyone in the school will know it!' And he will hurtle round the playground informing the gobsmacked multitudes of my heroism in the face of evil.
Or something like that.

2. Jaspar will be forever and a day grateful and will no longer play tricks on me. I will not have to endure toads in the bed or bogie toast or 'my name is Wilf and I need a home' stickers stuck to my back. In fact, Jaspar will be so grateful he will defend me against my aunt's sniffiness and take me on fossil hunting/apple scrumping/dog teasing trips in illegal back gardens and we will become actual friends and he will let me stay with him when the new baby-child gets a bit on top of me and he will even get to love the lawnmower.

3. MAC will fall upon me and never go near my aura again. MAC is a great one for showing her emotions and so will probably want to instantly make me her new son and change her will and give me a new bike.

Jaspar is still yelling and spluttering but I need to think this through, so I start to ponder the non-benefits of rescuing him:
1. Dexter will not care less.
2. Jaspar will not care less.
3. MAC will care a great deal and not in a good giving-lots-of-things-to-me kind of way

This is quite a knotty problem. However, I sigh and get to my feet. 'KEEP YOUR PANTS ON!' I yell, 'I'M COMING TO RESCUE YOU!'
'WELL, GET A MOVE ON YOU £%^&&&**!' the ungrateful one shouts back.
He is a trial.