The Munchin Family Part 2

Note:

The two children are Junior and Baby.

Junior (named Alfie) looks and sounds just like his dad. Baby, is small and roly-poly like his mum. His real name is Greg but everyone is used to calling him Baby despite the fact he is eight and goes to school!

 

Our story begins on a pretty normal day; the family were enjoying a relaxing few moments after lunch when the doorbell rang.

‘Whatever is that?’ Granddad asked scratching his beard and sending crumbs flying about the room.

Baby Munchin, grinned. ‘Doorbell’ he told them. Then he went back to licking his bowl clean.

Mother Munchin smiled. ‘Well fancy that! We have a genius in the family. Baby, however did you know that?’

Baby was thinking, I can’t tell the truth, I promised Fred I wouldn’t tell.

He and his best friend, Fred play a game after school most days. Fred does most of the work because he is the fastest boy in the whole school. He races up to a door, rings the doorbell and runs to where Baby is hiding. Together they watch the people of the house come out and look for the caller. People always walk outside. Next they look up and down the street, under bushes, in cars, behind pillar-boxes for the person who rang their doorbell.

Fred and Baby are so successful at this they have made the headlines in the local paper.  The big print on the front page this morning asked, ‘Are the invisible door bell ringers really aliens?’

Baby remembers what Fred said to him, ‘be careful do not tell anyone it was us or we will get punished.’

Baby had no idea what punished meant. He asked Fred who waved a long finger at Baby saying. ‘Well my dad said he used to get beaten with a stick, my mum used to get smacks of a wooden spoon and my aunt used to get grounded.’

Baby thought this last bit was funny but after some reflection he decided that spending your day with your head stuck in the ground would not be so funny.

So he simply said, ‘Don’t know, must have learnt it at school.’

‘Clever boy,’ his mum said patting the top of his head fondly.

 

Chapter 3

The doorbell rang once again. ‘Well come on in’ Father Munchin yelled.

A deep voice shouted back, ‘I would if I could find a door handle.’

‘Just pull or push.’ the whole Munchin family shouted. Their shout whipped up enough wind to knock the birds out of the tree and to blow the door open. They could see blue sky and green grass but not a visitor or any birds.

Junior Munchin stood up and walking over looked outside. ‘There is no one there!’ He said in a puzzled voice and turned to go inside.

They heard a painful whisper, ‘I’m crushed to a pulp behind the door, help, please.’

There was a thunderous noise of trampling scampering feet as the rest of the Munchin Family arrived to rescue him.

Granddad was rubbing his hands together in anticipation of seeing a squished body.

‘Oh my, Oh my.’ Father Munchin said over and over again as he twisted a hanky in his hands. He wasn’t good at looking at blood and gore.

Baby wanted to see what a squashed person looked like and he peeped behind the door. He was disappointed there was no blood or mess. Sighing loudly he said, ‘He’s ok. He looks a funny color and is a bit squished. But he will live!’

‘Come on in and have some tea, ‘Mother Munchin said staring at the visitor.

He was a very peculiar looking fellow. His face was long and thin with a short bulbous nose set right in the middle. His eyes were huge, one was brown and the other blue. His mouth was thin and small. His hair was so tightly curled it looked like a helmet sitting on his head.

Baby Munchin stood on his head and asked, ‘Were you punished, is that what happened?’

Their visitor’s whole body was shaking from the incredible experience of being flattened and meeting the entire family.

‘Baby, get the nice man some hot tea and a sandwich.’ Mother Munchin said as she patted the man’s hand and led him to a chair.

Baby ran to do as she asked and wished Fred were here, because Baby didn’t know how to make a sandwich. All he knew about sandwiches is that he loved them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The kite with a sting in its tail

 

It was hot. There was not the sound of a single bee buzzing. The wood appeared to be empty of animals, and magical beings.

Breeze was on his way to the river. He wanted to paddle his feet. A loud rustle among the leaves above startled him. He spotted a long tail and wondered if it was a giant mouse. It darted away from him. Breeze followed. He ran from tree to tree, staring upwards. Suddenly he tripped. He hit the ground with a loud thump.

Breeze discovered he had fallen over Hamish.

“Have you no manners?” yelled Hamish. “What are you doing squishing Elves?”

Pulling himself to his feet, Breeze replied, “Sorry there is a giant mouse in the trees.”

“Don’t be silly. They live on the ground, not in trees.” Hamish lay back on his bed of moss. “Go away, it’s nap time.”

Breeze decided to leave because a grumpy elf is better left alone. He walked on looking for the mouse and Tulip stopped him to ask why he was looking upwards. He told her about the mouse.

“Lets look for it together.” She said and then they heard it.

When they looked high amongst the trees they spotted a tail with ribbons on it, in a tree.   “If it is not a mouse, what is it?”

Tulip said, “It’s a kite.” she said and flew high above him to release it.

The kite landed at his feet. “What does it do?”

kite

“I’ll show you.” Tulip took the kite and flew a short distance away. The wind caught hold  and the kite flew after her, swooping and diving. With it’s long tail dancing in the wind, it attracted a lot of attention.

Mrs. Groundsel and her grandchildren came to watch the fun.

As the kite tumbled about in the air something strange happened.

Each time it danced in a certain direction so did everyone on the ground.

If the kite dived to earth, everyone watching fell to the ground.

When the kite flew high into the sky, then everyone jumped off the ground and they rose high into the air.

Lily, a tiny ogre, was screaming, “make it stop, I don’t like it.”

The kite began to dance as it moved.

“This is not funny.” Mrs Groundsel puffed as she jigged about.

“I think I know who did this.” Breeze said and marched into the wood.

Tulip couldn’t pull the kite down. It continued to dance in the sky. Everyone watching danced on the grass.

“I’m too old for this.” Mrs. Groundsel said.

Breeze arrived back with a squealing young witch called Lovisma, tucked under his right arm.

“Let me down you oaf.”

He plonked her on the ground, saying, “Lovisma, I’m not an oaf. I’m an ogre.”

Lovisma saw the dancing crowd before her. She cackled with delight. “Oh you do look funny. My friends would love to see this.”

Breeze said,  “make it stop or I will lock you in with Hamish’s pet skunk, Smelly.”

“No, No, No.  You can’t. He stinks.”

“Why shouldn’t we? You have been nasty.” Breeze said.

“You are nice.” She looked at her feet. “You don’t do stuff like that.”

Breeze said, “Lovisma, make it stop.”

She clicked her fingers and the kite raced landed on the ground. Everyone sat for a rest.

“You are one mean witch,” Tulip said.

“But it was funny, wasn’t it?” Lovisma whispered.  “It wasn’t that nasty. Maybe I should try it in another part of the wood and tell my friends to come watch.”

Breeze said, “No you won’t.”

Lovisma trudged away saying, “Breeze is an oaf, a big spoilsport oaf.”

Everyone shouted after her, “No he is an Ogre!”