More from Wilfred Wundle and the Magic Crayons Wilfred Survives Day One Wilfred tried his best not to look at Miss Cornishen for the remainder of the day. They learned how to make the first three letters of the alphabet in lower and upper case. They sang songs such as “Old McDonald had a Farm” and “The Bear Went Over the Mountain”. Wilfred’s favorite activity for the day was recess. He could swing on the swings or slide down the slide, and he didn’t have to worry about Miss Cornishen scolding him. She had already scolded him for the way his letter slanted and for his poor performance on “The Bear Went Over the Mountain”. In fact, recess was the only time that Miss Cornished did not shake her head and scold him. He hoped that the school day would not last too much longer. When recess was over, Miss Cornishen asked them to line up in a straight line and showed them how to put their finger in front of their lips. Wilfred thought it was rather silly to put your finger over your lips, but he didn’t want to get scolded once again, so he raised his pudgy finger and placed it on his lips. Miss Cornsihen counted all of the students to make sure she had not lost one, and then she strutted off back to the classroom. The students trotted behind her not daring to say a word. When they arrived at the classroom, Mrs. Cornishen watched as each student entered the room. She had a broad smile on her face until Wilfred walked by her. Her eyes drew together, and she stared uncomfortably at him. He tried to keep his eyes forward, but he couldn’t help staring at her pointy nose. He was the last student to enter the classroom, and Miss Cornishen walked in behind him. The door creaked as she shut it, and she spoke to the entire class. “We will now bring out our crayons and color for the next thirty minutes.” Wilfred was so excited because his mother had taken him to Wally’s Wacky World of All Supplies Necessary for school. He had marveled at the rows and rows of shiny new pencils and colored folders. She had taken him to the crayon aisle and let him pick out the box of crayons he wanted. Wilfred chose the biggest box that he could find. There were 120 colors. He had never even heard of some of the colors: gamboge, fallow, and razzmatazz. Miss Cornishen passed out a coloring sheet to each of the students and stopped directly over Wilfred’s desk. “I will be watching you like a hawk,” she said glaring at him, and then she made a cawing sound. “Caw caw.” The other students burst out in laughter, but Wilfred just looked down at his coloring sheet. Miss Cornishen walked away. Wilfred picked up the box of crayons, selected a color, and began coloring. He worked slowly as he colored the stripes of the tiger. His mother had taught him how to stay within the lines, but this meant that he would have to color slowly because his hand wasn’t very steady yet. Thirty minutes flew by, and Wilfred had only colored the stripes of the tiger. He hadn’t made it to the body yet. Miss Cornishen announced that time was up, and she went around the room to collect the coloring sheets. “That is so beautiful, Caroline,” as she picked up Caroline Pigshamble’s page. “See how perfectly she colored the tiger’s fur and his stripes.” Bart Butterball looked at Wilfred and made a gagging noise. Wilfred could not help it. He burst into laughter, and Miss Cornishen’s face turned red again. It looked like her head would blow up if she strained any harder. “Mr. Wundle and Mr. Butterball,” she shouted. “I think it is time for you to go to the principal’s office”. Bart and Wilfred looked at each other with a look of fear in their eyes. They had not even been through an entire day of school yet, and they were being sent to see the principal. Both Bart and Wilfred stood up and walked toward the door with their heads bowed. Caroline Pigshamble sang Beethoven’s chilling symphony as they walked out of the door. “Da da da duh! Da da da duh!” The entire class erupted in laughter as Miss Cornishen led Wilfred and Bart out of the classroom. The walked in the empty hallway as the sound from Miss Cornishen’s shoes echoed off the walls. Bart trembled because his older brothers had told him that the principal loved to get rid of children that misbehaved. Wilfred shook because he imagined all of the torture devices that could be used to punish bad students. The principal might tickle them with a feather for hours or lock them in a dark room with rats. As they approached the office, Miss Cornishen looked at them sternly and said, “You wait right here while I go talk to Mr. Charmean”. Wilfred and Bart watched in fear as Miss Cornishen walked up to Mr. Charmean’s door and knocked. The door opened, and Miss Cornishen disappeared inside. Wilfred started thinking about torture devices, and Bart was thinking about how Mr. Charmean might get rid of him. They both started to turn and run when the door opened and a gruff voice spoke. “Mr. Wundle and Mr. Butterball, please come into my office.” Both Wilfred and Bart imagined Mr. Charmean as a big man, probably bigger than a bear, but they were surprised when they walked in and actually looked at him. He was only a few inches taller than Wilfred, and his head was bald except for a tuft of hair near his forehead. Wilfred was laughing on the inside about the appearance of Mr. Charmean, but he dared not let a single giggle escape his mouth. “It seems that you two rascals have caused a lot of trouble on your very first day,” said Mr. Charmean in a disapproving tone. “This is not the way we want our students to act here at Illzrig Elementary School. I think I will let you off with a warning this time, but you two had better be on your best behavior for the rest of the school year, or I will have to take action.” Wilfred and Bart had been holding their breath, waiting for Mr. Charmean’s punishment, but now they let out a sigh of relief nodded understandingly to Mr. Charmean and Miss Cornishen. The bell rang once again. RRRRRiiiiiinnnnng. This was the signal that the school day was over, and they were to head to get on the bus. Wilfred and Bart rushed out of Mr. Charmean’s office and sprinted to the bus. They climbed on, got in their seats, and rode silently all the way home. Somehow they had survived day one. Wilfred Leaves Out a Few Details Mrs. Wundle was standing at the bus stop in the same spot she had been in when Wilfred got on the bus in the morning. She had a pile of wet tissues at her feet and one in her hand. She was still dabbing the tears from her eyes when Wilfred stepped off of the bus. “Oh, my beautiful little Wundlekins,” shrieked Mrs. Wundle “I can’t believe that my little boy is all grown up and getting off the bus from his first day of school.” She continued to blubber as they walked back toward the house. Wilfred walked straight into the house and started up the stairs when he heard his mother call, “When your father gets home, you will have to tell us all about your first day of school.” He continued up the stairs as if he hadn’t heard his mother, and he threw his backpack to the floor and climbed up on his bed. He laid on the bed looking at the ceiling for the longest time when he heard the doorbell ring. The familiar tap tap of his mother’s high heels could be heard walking through the house. She started to open the door, and Wilfred wondered who could be at the door. He figured that it was the postman delivering a package, but he knew in an instant it was Bart Butterball when he heard the quick chatter of a small boy. “Hello, Mrs. Wundle,” said Burt in a voice quick like lightning. “My name is Bart Butterball, and I met your son on the bus today we are best friends. I love your house. I live just a few blocks away. Speaking of blocks, did you know that Lego bricks were introduced in 1958. I absolutely love Lego bricks,” continued Bart rapidly. Bart continued to spout of facts as Wilfred ran down the stairs. “You seem like a lovely little boy,” said Mrs. Wundle interrupting Bart’s rant about the history of GI Joes.” Wilfred appeared at the bottom of the stairwell. He was panting from the short journey. “What are you doing here, Bart,” asked Wilfred through wheezing breaths. “Oh,” exclaimed Bart emphatically. “I just told my parents about Mr. Charmean. I told them about going to his…” but Wilfred cut him off. Wilfred had a panicked look on his face as he looked from Bart to his mother. “Mr. Charmean showed us his bug collection,” Wilfred lied. “Isn’t that right, Bart? He is the new science teacher at the school.” Bart looked quizzically at Wilfred before realizing what Wilfred was trying to do. “That’s right,” said Bart convincingly. “He took us to see his bug collection. Did you know that a cockroach…” Wilfred cut him off again before he could spout off some interesting fact that he had crammed in his cramped brain full of useless knowledge. “Bart and I are going to go play cops and robbers,” said Wilfred to his mother. Mrs. Wundle was surprised at how he son was acting, but she let it go and said, “Have fun Wundlekins. Bart can stay for dinner, and you can tell me all about the bugs.” Wilfred pushed Bart up the stairs and into his room. “What are you doing, Bart,” hissed Wilfred. “Are you trying to get me in trouble?” “I tell my parents everything, and I just thought your parents would want to know about us getting in trouble,” stammered Bart. “No,” answered Wilfred quickly. “Friends don’t come over and tell someone’s parent that he got in trouble.” “I thought friends shared everything,” pondered Bart as he wrinkled his forehead in thought. “Friends share everything, but they do NOT tell on each other,” replied Wilfred in a hurried whisper. Mrs. Wundle called from the kitchen to let them know that Mr. Wundle would be home any minute and supper would be ready shortly. Wilfred had forgotten about his father. His father always knew when he was lying because his left eye twitches when he made up a lie. “Okay, listen,” said Wilfred angrily. “My dad is going to come in and ask how our first day of school was. What are we going to tell him,” asked Wilfred expecting Bart to know the answer. “We will tell him that we had to go to the principal’s office,” replied Bart with a smile on his face. Wilfred dropped his head into his hands and let out a muffled scream. “To be so smart,” said Wilfred in frustration. “You sure act dumb.” Bart didn’t seem to catch that Wilfred had insulted him. He just started in on some fact about acting and facts about actors. Wilfred was beside himself with frustration. He grabbed Bart’s chubby face between his palms and looked him in the eye. “We will have to lie,” said Wilfred shortly. “Okay,” said Bart emphatically. “I love acting.” Wilfred let go of Bart’s face, turned to walk out the door, and shook his head. This was going to be interesting. Wilfred’s father walked through the door and kissed Mrs. Wundle on the cheek. “How is our little boy,” asked Mr. Wundle. “He had a wonderful first day of school,” said Mrs. Wundle. “He even made a little friend. They got to see Mr. Charmean’s bug collection.” Mr. Wundle looked puzzled. He wondered who in the world would keep a bug collection. Supped was ready, and Mr. Wundle called the boys downstairs to eat. “Boys, it’s time to eat.” Wilfred and Bart descended the stairs slowly and sat down conspicuously at the kitchen table. Wilfred kept eyeing Bart and motioning. Bart didn’t understand that Wilfred was trying to tell him to lie. They mouthed back and forth to each other until Mr. Wundle sat down at the table. “So…” started Mr. Wundle looking at Bart, but he didn’t know Bart’s name. “My name is Bart,” rambled Bart. “Bart Butterball. I am sure that you have eaten a Butterball turkey at Thanksgiving. My dad raises turkeys, and our last name is quite famous.” Bart continued his barrage of facts as Mr. Wundle rubbed his temples. “It is nice to meet you Bart,” said Mr. Wundle in a tired voice. “Maybe we should just take some quiet time and eat.” Bart seemed to take the hint as he picked up his fork and stuffed his mouth full of mashed potatoes. He looked like a chipmunk hiding food in the pouches of his cheeks. Wilfred began to poke at the mystery meat on his plate. His father noticed him playing with his food and said, “Don’t play with your food, Wilfred. You have to eat so you can be big and strong like me.” Wilfred let out a sigh and put a piece of the mystery meat in his mouth and chewed. It was like chewing on a tractor tire, but he smiled and said, “Yum. This is delicious Mom.” He would slip the rest under the table and eat a candy bar when he got back to his room. Bart was still shoveling food into his mouth when Mr. Wundle spoke. “So, Bart,” said Mr. Wundle in a questioning tone. “I hear that you and Wilfred saw some bug collection today.” Bart cocked his head to the side, but Wilfred kicked him in the shin under the table. “Oww,” screamed Bart. Everyone at the table looked at him. “I mean oh,” said Bart quickly. “Yes. Wilfred and I saw Mr. Charmean’s bug collection. It was fascinating. Did you know cockroaches…” but before he could finish, Mr. Wundle waved his hand, picked up the TV remote, and turned up the volume. Bart was still talking when Wilfred got up from the table, grabbed his arms, and led him away. Wilfred and the Giant Fluffy Orange Cat Wilfred Wundle was standing in front of the classroom. His face was red, and the entire class erupted into laughter as Miss Cornishen pecked him on the top of his head with her long, beak-like nose. A cockle doodle doo came from the distance, and Wilfred almost jumped out of his bed. He had been dreaming. His mother called from downstairs, “Wundlekins, it is time to get up. Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!” This was her normal way of waking him up. He wasn’t entirely sure where the phrase came from, but he did want both eggs and bacon. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes with his pudgy hands. It was day two of school, and he had to go back to the mean Miss Cornishen’s classroom. He walked into the bathroom and picked up his Scooby Doo toothbrush. He started singing “Happy Birthday” in his head as he brushed his teeth. Up. Down. Side to Side. Once he had sang the song twice, he put his toothbrush back in its holder and stomped down the stairs. “Good morning, my little Wundlekins,” his mother screeched. “I hope you are ready for your second day in school.” “I am not going to school,” he said defiantly. “I already know how to read the Three Little Pigs and Goldilocks. I am ready to go out in the real world and get a job. “Don’t be silly,” Mr. Wundle said as he looked up from the morning’s newspaper. “What is a six year old going to do to make money,” he asked sarcastically. “I..I,” stuttered Wilfred when he tried to think of an answer. “I will sell lemonade. I will build a lemonade stand and become a businessman.” Mrs. Wundle sobbed as tears rolled from her eyes. “My little baby is going to be a business man.” Wilfred rolled his eyes. “Mom, I’m not a baby. I am six years old for crying out loud!” “Stop this nonsense,” snapped Mr. Wundle. “You are going to school.” Wilfred held his breath. This usually allowed him to get whatever he wanted, but his mother was too busy sobbing, and his dad had returned to the paper. His eyes bulged and his cheeks puffed out as the air escaped his lips. Phhhhhhhht! Wilfred walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs to get his clothes. When he walked back down the stairs, he was wearing a red sweater with a gigantic fluffy orange cat on it. Gam Gam, his grandmother, had made it for him. “I can’t wear this to school, Mom,” he screamed. Mrs. Wundle just continued to sob as she saw her baby boy all dressed up for his second day of school. “It’s just…just beautiful,” she said quietly. Wilfred stomped his feet, but it didn’t do any good. His father read the paper. His mother sobbed. And he had to go to school in a red sweater with a giant fluffy orange cat on it. This was not a good day for Wilfred.
Posted on: Sat, 20 Sep 2014 13:32:33 +0000
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