As promised, Chapter Two of my upcoming children’s book Animal Friends. Available on Amazon July 2013. Would really appreciate any feedback good, bad, constructive in the comment section below.
Animal Friends | Chapter Two
Dads are the best aren’t they? Every little girl loves her daddy. Even though they yell and scream sometimes, make you miss cartoons and are terrible at cooking dinner, dads tell the best stories ever. And there’s no better time for your dad to drop a story on you than just after you’ve gotten in trouble.
This was probably Abby’s favourite part about listening to dad telling stories. She did love the incoherent characters that would babble on with the most absurd maniacal ramblings and she did love the ingenious plot twists that seemed to wind on forever through a never ending valley of nonsense. But mainly, she loved the fact that thirty seconds into telling one of his weird and wonderful stories, Steve would completely forget that his daughter was actually in trouble and was suppose to be getting punished.
Abby’s mother Julie regretfully did not share the same level of forgetfulness when it came to punishments. In fact, her mom would often openly reminisce about punishments she used to dish out just to try and scare her in to being good. It usually worked too which meant Abby kept well clear of mischief outside of business hours.
Steve was more like a big cuddly teddy bear. He was hairy all over (except for on the top of his head), he had big strong arms and always smelled like raw tuna. Plus, he was still wearing his striped blue pyjamas and brown slippers. Abby rarely felt threatened by her dad, no matter how naughty she had been.
He finished the crust of his marmalade and peanut butter toast and washed it down with a big gulp of orange juice flavoured water. And just before he started telling the story (before he started every story), he cracked his knuckles, collected his thoughts and whispered gently into Abby’s ear, careful not to spit any crumbs…
“Abby, the story I am about to tell you was told to me by my father when I was your age and I think you are now old enough to hear it too. It is a very important story. It is a true story. And you need to make sure you are paying the upmost attention ok?”
She knew the drill. It was story time. Way better than cartoons. Killing flies instantly dropped off the to-do-list and the buzzing noise in her ears switched off like a light. Abby nodded with delicate precision, cautious to ensure with one hundred percent certainty that she wanted to hear this story. Every last drop of it.
Steve had to clench his lip muscles to prevent a laugh from creeping out. He found it so amusing that every single time, without fail, when he began his story routine, Abby’s mind would go stone blank, preparing to soak up every last detail of the adventure he was about to share. How could he possibly punish such an innocent creature?
Sitting up straight on the polished wooden chair, Abby could only barely rest her arms at the kitchen table with her elbows hanging high. Her blonde locks shook like a fox’s tail against the back of her pink silk dress whilst her little legs dangled over the edge, revealing cute little frilly socks. It was impossible to imagine that only moments earlier the same little girl had had the look of utter death and destruction in her eyes.
“This is the story of Wayne the Cicada and Patrick the Christmas Beetle, two of the bravest little insects who ever lived! And guess what. They used to live in our very own backyard. Are you ready?”
Abby nodded again, faster than a jackhammer, with a giant red lump on her forehead.