choice.
âMUM, THEREâS NO LOO ROLL!â I had to shout.
âWAKE UP! I NEED SOME LOO ROLL,â I had to shout again.
The trouble with shouting when someoneâs asleep is they donât always hear you.
So then you have to shout louder and LOUDER, and kick the side of the bath with your feet too.
âMUM! MUM! THE DIB-DAB GERMS HAVE GOT ME. IâVE GOT TUMMY TROUBLE!!!! HELP!!!!!!!!!!â I had to shout at the top of my voice.
The trouble with waking my mum up is she doesnât really like it.
The trouble with waking my mum up when sheâs in a bad mood is she REALLY doesnât like it.
I can tell because usually, when thereâs something wrong with me in the night, my mum pretends to keep her eyes open and rubs my back. But not last night. At least not when she came into the bathroom the first time.
The first time she came to see me, she folded her arms and tapped her toes on the bathroom floor and said, âYou see, Daisy. You see what happens when you turn into a human dustbin. I told you tummy trouble was brewing. Goodness knows how many germs were on that lolly.â
Luckily we had some more loo rolls in the bathroom cupboard. Mum bought them yesterday before she went to the butcherâs.
Trouble is, there are only twelve loo rolls in a pack.
Oo.
No.
Yes, no, yes.
Not sure . . .
See you in a min . . . !!!!!!!!!!!
Chapter 12
Phew!!
Good news at last! I didnât have to open loo roll number eleven!
In fact, I didnât have to go to the loo at all! Which means I must be getting better!
Which is a good job because the trouble with brand-new loo rolls is they can be really tricky to open.
A bit like cheese triangles.
Once, when I was hungry, I tried to make my own picnic, but I couldnât get the cheese out of the triangle at all. Until I squeezed it really really hard with both hands. Then all the cheese squidged out of one end, all over my fingers.
Mum says cheese triangles are really easy to open when you know how.
Thatâs the trouble with grown-ups . They know everything.
At least they think they do.
I got most of the cheese out in the end but it didnât look anything like a triangle. Which made me really cross because triangles are my favourite shape. Then circles. Then squares.
I didnât fancy the cheese after that. So in the end I just ate the bread.
The trouble with bread is my mum never lets me cut it myself.
She says Iâll have an accident with the big knife and chop all my fingers off. Then Iâll have to have a finger sandwich instead of a cheese sandwich, because good fingers shouldnât go to waste.
Anyway, how could I pick up a finger sandwich if all my fingers were inside the sandwich? She hasnât thought of that, has she?
The only things Iâm allowed to cut in our house are craft paper and play-dough. With the red scissors.
I did cut Gabbyâs hair once when I was round her house, but she made me do it. It was definitely her idea, not mine.
The trouble with Gabbyâs hair is it fidgets a lot, so even if youâre a really good hairdresser, it comes out wrong.
Gabby quite liked it from the front, but her mum only saw it from the back.
Playing hairdressers is banned in Gabbyâs house now. So are any games with scissors.
The trouble with playing round Gabbyâs house is she knows all the best places to hide. Whenever she says, âCOMING, READY OR NOT!â Iâm never ready because Iâm still looking for a good place to hide. I used to hide under her bed but she kept finding me, and now itâs the same when I hide behind her lounge curtains.
Trouble is, whenever I say, âCOMING READY OR NOT!â I can never find her anywhere. Not even when Iâve counted to a hundred in tens instead of ones.
Last time we played hide-and-seek at Gabbyâs house I was looking for her for ages. In the end I had to give up. And guess where she was?
In
Dorothy L. Sayers, Jill Paton Walsh