‘Cock-a-doodle-doooooo!’ screeched my baby brother, Desmond Loser the Second, from his bedroom next to mine.
It was 6.17am on Saturday morning, not that I minded because . . .
‘IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!’ I cried, jumping out of bed and running downstairs doing an excitement blowoff on every step.
‘Happy birthday, my darling little Snookyflumps!’ cooed my mum, cuddling me into her bright red fluffy dressing gown.
‘Thanks Mumsy Wumsy!’ I smiled, wriggling out of her cuddle and staring at the ginormous pile of presents sitting on our kitchen table.
In the middle of the pile sat a huge box covered in shiny silver paper.
‘Fandabby-keelness1!’ I cried, doing a bum-wiggle dance until my pyjama bottoms fell down.
I knew exactly what was inside the box – a SHNOZINATOR 9000!
I twizzled one of my eyeballs over to the present list I’d stuck on the fridge door nineteen and three-quarter weeks before.
It said:
My mum spotted me looking at the list. ‘Ooh that reminds me,’ she said. ‘What did you do at school yesterday?’
‘Erm . . . answer boring questions mostly,’ I said, giving myself a mini salute for being so funny.
My mum did a face like a kangaroo eating a hedgehog and I dived into the presents, grabbing a squidgy jumperish-feeling one.2
‘Hmmm . . . let me guess – a yellow hoodie?’ I smiled, ripping it open. I’m famous for wearing yellow hoodies, in case you didn’t know.
Inside the wrapping paper was a white polo neck jumper.
‘Thought it’d make a change from all your yellow hoodies!’ chuckled my dad.
‘Plus it’s just like the one Wolf Tizzler wears in his adverts!’ said my mum, and I did a bday eye-roll because I’m comperleeterly bored of hearing my mum go on about Wolf Tizzler the whole time.
Wolf Tizzler is the annoying child genius who invented the ‘ZOOM-E-BROOM’, a new kind of broom with microscopic wheels on the ends of its bristles.
Wolf Tizzler’s always on TV doing adverts about how the microscopic wheels are supposed to make the ZOOM-E-BROOM go faster when you’re sweeping up.
I think my mum thinks Wolf Tizzler would be the most perfect son ever.
‘Thanks Mum, thanks Dad,’ I said, not that I really wanted a white polo neck jumper.
‘Don’t thank us, it’s from Desmond!’ said my dad.
‘Thanks Desmond,’ I said, even though I knew there was no way my baby brother had gone into a Feeko’s supermarket and bought me a Wolf Tizzler polo neck jumper all on his own.
I reached down and patted him on the head.
‘Me got a biskit!’ shouted Desmond, who was sitting on the floor with his bum squidged into a potty.
He took a bite of the dinosaur-shaped biscuit he was holding. ‘Me not want biskit!’ he spluttered, spraying bits of biscuit all over the kitchen tiles.
‘No probbles!’ said my mum, grabbing her ZOOM-E-BROOM and sweeping the crumbs into a dustpan. ‘Thanks to its microscopic bristle-wheel technology, the ZOOM-E-BROOM is up to ninety per cent faster than the next-fastest broom on the market!’ she smiled.
‘Isn’t that what that Rolf Twizzler kid says in his adverts?’ said my dad.
‘Ooh, he’s such a clever boy!’ cooed my mum.
‘I’m clever too!’ I said, yanking my white polo neck over my head. ‘Look – I can hardly get this jumper on what with my ginormous brain and everything!’
‘More like your ginormous nose!’ chuckled my dad, even though his nose is WAY bigger than mine.
After that I opened all my other presents – apart from the huge shiny silver one with the SHNOZINATOR 9000 inside. This is what I got . . .
1. A bright pink piggy bank from my Granny Harumpadunk:
2. Wolf Tizzler’s autobiography, HOW TO BE A GENIUS LIKE ME, from my mum:
3. One of those build-your-own circuit board kits from my dad:
‘Brillikeels,’ I said, pretending I liked them all even though:
1. I don’t have any money to put in a piggy bank
2. Who wants to read a boring old book about a loserish child genius who loves brooms?
3. There was no way I’d be wasting my time building a stupid circuit board when
