really not nice having a dog like Gobber. I think I must not be a very nice person to have deserved being
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lumbered with him. And for that reason I have not told a single other person about him. I think it is safer that way.
If my mum tells me off for coming home covered in mud I say to her, ‘Mum, it’s not my fault, a dog knocked me into the mud,’ because that is kind of the truth. Gobber does knock me off my feet. A lot. But she doesn’t believe me. She thinks I made up the dog and got muddy on purpose. I don’t do very much on purpose. Then my mum goes on and on but I can’t hear her, because Gobber is barking in my ears.
Other examples of my epic bad luck:
•If I am running along the road and there is a hole in the pavement, Gobber will shove me into it and I will fall over and scrape my knees.
•If I am cycling to the park Gobber will suddenly bark and I will wobble over the stones by the stinging nettles and I will be wearing shorts and my legs will get stung all over.
•If I lean over to whisper to my friend Carter in class, just once, Gobber will seize the opportunity
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to get me into trouble, barging into my chair so it wobbles. Mrs Penfolder my English teacher will turn around at that exact moment.
‘Billy Bramble, settle down and focus,’ she will say in her trying to be patient but had enough voice.
Focusing is hard when you’ve got Gobber the dog sat at your feet ruining your life.
Gobber might also be the reason I never win anything.
I never ever ever ever ever ever ever EVER EVER EVER win anything.
I don’t win at cards.
I don’t win snakes and ladders.
I don’t win raffles. (My sister Lucy ALWAYS wins raffles and that makes me SICK.)
I don’t win trophies.
I don’t win quizzes.
I don’t win ‘dress as an idiot from a book’ day.
I have never won ‘Best Student Ever’ or ‘Student of the Century’ or ‘Child of the Decade’ or ‘Most Wonderful Kid in the Universe’.
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I don’t even win ‘Best of the Worst Students’, like Carter does, but then that’s not an award anyone wants to win. It’s the award with ‘loser’ written all over it. Teachers don’t think we’ve worked that one out, but we have.
Sorry you got the Loser’s Award mate, better luck next year.
What I do win, most terms, is the Attendance Award. If there’s something I’m good at it’s never ever being ill.
I can’t be getting ill because if I did then who would keep me safe from Gobber?
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(THE CHICKEN)
In the holidays I got a chicken and my sister Lucy got a chicken and my mum got a chicken and they live together in a chicken run and chicken coop which Dad made in the garage and which we call Chicken Towers. It’s not in the garage now you understand because chickens need to live outdoors. He constructed it in the garage and then we all helped carry it to the bottom of the garden where we put it inside a tall fence which keeps the foxes out.
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We were allowed to choose names for our chickens. I called my chicken Facebook because it will be a daily reminder to everyone that I should be allowed my basic human right of being on Facebook. Mum and Dad were less annoyed with my choice of name than I had hoped they would be but there is still plenty of time to achieve maximum parental annoyance. I will not be giving up my mission to make them change their minds. Grandad Bramble, though, he expressed great surprise and annoyance at my chosen chicken name.
‘Facebook is not a proper name for a chicken,’ he said. ‘I don’t know why you young people want to live your lives on the internet.’ He said the word ‘internet’ like it tasted bad in his mouth. He does not understand, in fact no one understands that my whole life would be improved if I were allowed to use Facebook.
He tried to get me to change Facebook’s name to Raquel after an actress he liked who was in old films. This amused him so much he laughed and laughed and his glasses fell down his nose and it was in NO WAY funny.
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I will get my own back and win my campaign by calling my chicken by her name as often and as loudly as possible.
‘Facebook. Facebook. Hello Facebook. How are you Facebook? Would you like some food Facebook? Have you laid an egg today Facebook?’ I will go on and on until I drive everyone crazy and they give in. It is a matter of time, I am sure of that.
I am starting to love my chicken Facebook. When we went away for the weekend I really missed her quite a lot and worried about her. I sit with Facebook the chicken and sometimes she lets me hold her and this makes me feel calm. Gobber the dog keeps his distance when I’m with Facebook the chicken. Perhaps he gets jealous. I don’t know.
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The chickens lay about three eggs every day between them. Me and Lucy cannot be trusted to collect the eggs together because Lucy is annoying and so we have to take turns. I absolutely love to collect the eggs and it is one of my favourite jobs. With the eggs we make boiled eggs, fried eggs, omelettes, quiches, big cakes, small cakes and meringues.
My favourite thing to make is biscuits. I am very good at making biscuits. Biscuits are good to make when we have run out of eggs (which is not very often).
I love biscuits and I like the sound of the word ‘biscuit’. My favourite biscuits are custard creams. I could eat a whole packet in one go if I was allowed to (which I am not).
Mrs Buttress gave me this recipe for biscuits. It was the first cooking I did with her. We shared them around the staffroom and everyone loved the biscuits.
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BASIC BISCUITS
110g
