Gabriel loves to write stories: long; short; funny; sad or scary. As long as there is an opportunity to create a story.
Little Miss Hoity Toity and Me!
My sister is three years and three months older than me, I think that’s why she‘s three inches taller! She’s a bit delicate; well that’s what my grandad Wilson says when she falls over in the garden trying to escape a fly. I know you can’t escape a fly, you have to kill it! Of course you have to catch it first and that’s impossible! Even my butterfly net is useless, I only catch Miss Hoity which is rather alarming. She seems to lose all her delicateness when things don’t go her way and she gets very red in the face. Mum says getting red rises your blood pressure, I tell Miss Hoity this when she is as red as a tomato but she doesn’t listen and goes purple like a beetroot. I don’t like beetroot! It makes my pee pink and I don’t like that at all!
My grandad calls my sister Miss Hoity Toity. I asked him what that meant! He told me to watch and learn. I think I get it now. She’s a bit ridiculous and doesn’t like to get dirty. And she hates mice, even little dead ones!
Little Miss Hoity has a big room with a big bed, I have a small room with a small bed. Mum says that’s because I’m the youngest and Miss Hoity (Mum doesn’t call her that, only me and grandad Wilson call her that) is the eldest. I don’t think that’s fair but at least a small room is easier to clean. When Miss Hoity is at ballet I like to go into her room and look at her things, she goes to ballet ever Saturday morning. She looks so funny in her pink tights and pink springy skirt. Her skinny legs look like the worms I find in the vegetable patch. Grandad Wilson says there’s more meat on a butchers apron. I don’t want to go to ballet, those tights would make my legs itch and I don’t like the colour pink at all, that’s another reason why I don’t like beetroot. When Miss Hoity comes home she tells Dad I’ve been in her room. I lie and say I haven’t, she can’t prove it so Dad can’t say too much but he does raise an eyebrow which is really funny. It makes me giggle and that makes me look guilty. I am guilty!
It’s Miss Hoity’s birthday soon and Mum and Dad said she can have a big party and invite her friends from school and her pink legged friends from ballet. Grandad Wilson says he’ll come and bring Granny Wilson too. I like Granny Wilson she’s very funny. She wears very tight leggings; they look like tights. Her legs have even less meat on them than Miss Hoity’s. One time she wore bright yellow leggings and Dad said she looked like a canary. I laughed till I got the hic up’s and then I laughed even more and then I got sick and Mum was furious. Granny does look a bit like a canary and she wears great big glasses. I think she must be blind because she can’t see when she takes them off to clean them and her eyes are tiny; she blinks a lot just like a canary. I have to hand them to her and she can’t even see my hand or her glasses and they’re right in-front of her face. I think this is very funny. It’s a good job she can’t see me smiling.
Granny makes lovely cakes and the best fried eggs I have ever tasted. She makes crinkle cut chips specially for me for my tea when I visit and she always has tomato sauce. I love my granny and grandad and they love me. I think they love me more than Miss Hoity Toity.
Miss Hoity wants a puppy for her birthday. She’s going to be 11 and Mum and Dad think she’s old enough to look after a puppy. I don’t think she is! I think she should get a hamster and see how that goes. Hamsters are lovely and furry and like mice but just bigger. I had a pet mouse but it died. Well it was dead when I found it but it was still my pet. I called it mousey and put it under Miss Hoity’s bed but she didn’t find it. Mum found it when she was hoovering and she screamed the house down. Dad nearly had a heart attack (his words) running down the hall to see what my Mum was screaming about. He slipped and fell on his bum! (Mum always polishes the hall). It is so shiny and slippery and he forgot to put his slippers on. We all have to wear slippers all the time, especially on the hall. Mum insists and she buys us new slippers every Christmas. When Mum’s not home I skate on the hall in my stocking feet, it’s great fun. I whizz up and down.
Miss Hoity arrived at her bedroom door to see what was going on. Her face went red and then purple. I thought she was going to burst. I told her to be careful of her blood pressure. She opened her delicate little mouth and started to scream even louder than Mum did. I didn’t think that was possible. I struggled not to laugh out loud. Mum glared at me, actually she glared at me for the rest of that day. Dad wasn’t too happy either, I think his heart was still an issue and he said his back was hurting from falling. He even told Miss Hoity to calm down or she’d have a canary. Dad must have a thing about canaries. I wondered if a canary might be a better pet than a puppy.
Miss Hoity wasn’t happy that the mouse had been under her bed while she’d been sleeping in it. She said she was going to have nightmares for the rest of her life. That made me smile which made me look guilty. Dad told me to get rid of the mouse. I think he suspected me but no one could prove it.
I buried mousey in the vegetable patch right beside Mum’s new potatoes. I left him a shiny coloured stone I found in Miss Hoity’s jewellery box and some cheese. It was expensive cheese, that’s what Dad said when he couldn’t find it and then Mum couldn’t find it and she told Dad he must have eaten it. And then Dad said she shouldn’t polish the hall so much. Mum wasn’t happy about that and told Dad he should have worn his slippers. And then he said she shouldn’t have screamed so loudly over a silly dead mouse.
I decided not to say anything! That’s what Grandad Wilson told me! He said silence is golden and sometimes it’s best not to say anything. I decided he was right. I did hope that Mum’s potatoes wouldn’t be ready anytime soon though! Miss Hoity Toity will never eat potatoes again if she finds a dead mouse buried with them.
Later that day I decide to put the cheese back in the fridge. I had put the wrapper in my pocket so it wouldn’t be found in the bin.
I went out to the vegetable patch and luckily enough the cheese was still there along with a rather big slimy slug. I picked him up and looked at him. He was rather pretty with a lovely shiny shell almost the same colour as Miss Hoity’s shiny stone. I cleaned the cheese as best I could in my T-shirt and wound the wrapping around it and headed to the kitchen, cheese in one hand and slug in the other. There was no one in the kitchen, Mum had gone for a lie down (she does that a lot) and Dad had gone for a walk with Miss Hoity (they do that a lot). I quickly hid the cheese behind a carton of milk in the back of the fridge. Dad or Mum would find it eventually and then they’d feel guilty. It made a change for someone else to be guilty.
I looked down at the slug and popped him into my pocket. I had a lovely new pet and I knew exactly where to put him. Come on little fella I thought, time to put you in your little box! I walked out of the kitchen in my stocking feet and whizzed down the hall!
Little Miss Hoity and me will be back even if I have to catch her in my butterfly net! Mum is polishing the hall and Dad is looking for his slippers. Grandad Wilson says hi and Granny Wilson is cleaning her glasses so I best go help. Oh! and Slimy the slug is doing just great, he's waiting for Miss Hoity to come home from ballet! Won't that be fun!
© 2020 Gabriel Wilson
Gabriel Wilson (author) from Madeira, Portugal on April 27, 2020:
Hi Liz, Thank you so much for reading and your feedback is very much appreciated. Hope you doing ok!
Liz Westwood from UK on April 26, 2020:
This is an amusing 'Just William' style tale. You've cracked the childlike narrative, whilst injecting enough detail so that the reader can see the scenes unfolding before their eyes. The Grandad character is a great asset.