Just wanted to get some feedback on a short story I've written for kids. Imagine you're a 10-year-old boy and see if you find this amusing...I'd love to hear from you.
A Frog in My Throat
It was just another ordinary day. I woke up in the same house, in the same street, in the same bed as I always did. But then things got weird. Really weird. Like you-won’t-believe-what-I’m-about-to-tell-you-but-it-really-happened kind of weird. It was the day I got a frog in my throat. Seriously. I really got a frog in my throat.
It all started when Mum came in to wake me up. She knocked on my door, opened it and said a cheery, “Good morning, Gilbert,” as she threw back the curtains. I went to say a sleepy good morning back, but nothing came out. Mum glanced at me as she walked out of my room and said, “What’s the matter, Gilbert? Got a frog in your throat?”
At that exact moment, I really did feel a lump in my throat. A wriggling lump. A lump that had arms and legs. I started to panic as the lump crawled up my throat, tickled past my tonsils and hopped onto my tongue. I opened my mouth wide to scream, but nothing came out…except a little, green frog.
My little sister, Debra, happened to be walking past my room at that exact moment and caught sight of the frog hopping out my door. “Mum!” she yelled from the top of the stairs. “Gilbert had a frog in his room!” She dobbed on me every chance she got.
“Gilbert!” I knew I was in trouble from the way Mum said my name, and it wasn’t even seven o’clock yet. What a way to start the day.
Things got worse over breakfast. While Mum had her back turned, I glared at Debra. I was so distracted I didn’t hear Dad come in from his morning walk. He must have asked me a question, because the next thing I knew he was standing behind me. He put his hand on my shoulder and said, “What’s the matter, Gilbert? A cat got your tongue?”
Before I knew what had happened, there was something in my mouth again. But this time instead of being cold and slimy, it was soft and fluffy. It wriggled a lot and had really sharp teeth and claws. Worst of all, it was attached to my tongue! Debra’s eyes were as big as saucers. There was a cat attached to the end of my tongue!
After about five seconds, the cat relaxed its grip and dropped into my cereal bowl with a splash, before high-tailing it out the kitchen door. Debra was still staring, her mouth wide open, with a spoonful of cereal suspended in front of her. Mum hadn’t seen the cat. Phew! But she did notice that I’d made a mess with my cereal. “For goodness sake, Gilbert! Please be a bit more careful.” She looked at Debra, frozen like a statue. “And hurry up, Debra. Finish your cereal or you’ll miss the bus.” Debra opened her mouth to dob on me again, but was so surprised she closed it and didn’t say a word.
I couldn’t wait to get out of the house. Hopefully at school things would be normal again. I got dressed in record time, brushed my teeth for twice as long as usual and grabbed my lunch off the bench on the way out. “Bye Mum!” I called, as the front door shut behind me with a thud.
Van and Thomas were waiting at the bus stop for me as usual. The bus was running late and Mr Howard, the bus driver was anxious to get everyone on board. “Hurry up, you lot,” he grumbled. Van and Thomas got on ahead of me, while I fumbled around in my bag looking for my ticket. I knew it was in there somewhere…among the old chip packets, the half eaten sandwich and the crumpled up note I forgot to give Mum.
Everyone was on the bus now, except me. I stood on the top step, still searching through my bag. Mr Howard glared at me. “I said hurry up! I don’t know, you young people today. It’s like talking to a brick wall.”
As he craned his neck out the window waiting for a break in the traffic, I felt the now familiar feeling. Oh no, it was happening again! There, on the top step of the bus, I turned into a brick wall. Row after row of red bricks cemented themselves around me until I was completely covered. The noisy bus suddenly became very quiet and everyone stared straight at me. Van leant forward to speak. I saw his lips moving, but I couldn’t hear a thing. I guess brick walls don’t have ears. Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the brick wall vanished and I was left standing there with my bus ticket in my left hand and a single red brick in my right. Mr Howard looked at me again. “For goodness sake, put your ticket in the machine and go and sit down,” he ordered. “And put that brick away. The things you kids have in your school bags never ceases to amaze me…”
I mumbled a quiet ‘sorry’ as I shoved the brick in my bag and went and sat in the first seat I could find. Nobody spoke a word to me for the rest of the trip.
At school I waited by myself outside the classroom until the bell went. I was too scared to look at anyone or say a word. Three weird events already today – what else could go wrong?
Sitting at my desk, I tried to concentrate on what Miss Walker was saying. We were in the middle of maths – my favourite subject – but today I just couldn’t focus. I was supposed to be copying down multiplication problems from the board. Instead I kept coughing, trying to get rid of the fur ball stuck in my throat from the cat who got my tongue. I also noticed that my jumper was covered in little bits of cement from the brick wall, so I quietly picked at my sleeves. “Gilbert, will you get back to work please,” said Miss Walker, frowning. She’d already spoken to me twice before.
“Sorry,” I replied, as I tried to concentrate on problem number six. I wriggled around on my chair and took a sip out of my water bottle, trying to get comfortable. Miss Walker looked at me disapprovingly.
“I’m not sure what’s gotten into you today, Gilbert. You are normally the first one finished.” She turned to walk to the whiteboard and said over her shoulder, “It seems to me that you’ve got ants in your pants.”
I groaned. This was not going to be good.
It was just another ordinary day. I woke up in the same house, in the same street, in the same bed as I always did. But then things got weird. Really weird. Like you-won’t-believe-what-I’m-about-to-tell-you-but-it-really-happened kind of weird. It was the day I got a frog in my throat. Seriously. I really got a frog in my throat.
It all started when Mum came in to wake me up. She knocked on my door, opened it and said a cheery, “Good morning, Gilbert,” as she threw back the curtains. I went to say a sleepy good morning back, but nothing came out. Mum glanced at me as she walked out of my room and said, “What’s the matter, Gilbert? Got a frog in your throat?”
At that exact moment, I really did feel a lump in my throat. A wriggling lump. A lump that had arms and legs. I started to panic as the lump crawled up my throat, tickled past my tonsils and hopped onto my tongue. I opened my mouth wide to scream, but nothing came out…except a little, green frog.
My little sister, Debra, happened to be walking past my room at that exact moment and caught sight of the frog hopping out my door. “Mum!” she yelled from the top of the stairs. “Gilbert had a frog in his room!” She dobbed on me every chance she got.
“Gilbert!” I knew I was in trouble from the way Mum said my name, and it wasn’t even seven o’clock yet. What a way to start the day.
Things got worse over breakfast. While Mum had her back turned, I glared at Debra. I was so distracted I didn’t hear Dad come in from his morning walk. He must have asked me a question, because the next thing I knew he was standing behind me. He put his hand on my shoulder and said, “What’s the matter, Gilbert? A cat got your tongue?”
Before I knew what had happened, there was something in my mouth again. But this time instead of being cold and slimy, it was soft and fluffy. It wriggled a lot and had really sharp teeth and claws. Worst of all, it was attached to my tongue! Debra’s eyes were as big as saucers. There was a cat attached to the end of my tongue!
After about five seconds, the cat relaxed its grip and dropped into my cereal bowl with a splash, before high-tailing it out the kitchen door. Debra was still staring, her mouth wide open, with a spoonful of cereal suspended in front of her. Mum hadn’t seen the cat. Phew! But she did notice that I’d made a mess with my cereal. “For goodness sake, Gilbert! Please be a bit more careful.” She looked at Debra, frozen like a statue. “And hurry up, Debra. Finish your cereal or you’ll miss the bus.” Debra opened her mouth to dob on me again, but was so surprised she closed it and didn’t say a word.
I couldn’t wait to get out of the house. Hopefully at school things would be normal again. I got dressed in record time, brushed my teeth for twice as long as usual and grabbed my lunch off the bench on the way out. “Bye Mum!” I called, as the front door shut behind me with a thud.
Van and Thomas were waiting at the bus stop for me as usual. The bus was running late and Mr Howard, the bus driver was anxious to get everyone on board. “Hurry up, you lot,” he grumbled. Van and Thomas got on ahead of me, while I fumbled around in my bag looking for my ticket. I knew it was in there somewhere…among the old chip packets, the half eaten sandwich and the crumpled up note I forgot to give Mum.
Everyone was on the bus now, except me. I stood on the top step, still searching through my bag. Mr Howard glared at me. “I said hurry up! I don’t know, you young people today. It’s like talking to a brick wall.”
As he craned his neck out the window waiting for a break in the traffic, I felt the now familiar feeling. Oh no, it was happening again! There, on the top step of the bus, I turned into a brick wall. Row after row of red bricks cemented themselves around me until I was completely covered. The noisy bus suddenly became very quiet and everyone stared straight at me. Van leant forward to speak. I saw his lips moving, but I couldn’t hear a thing. I guess brick walls don’t have ears. Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the brick wall vanished and I was left standing there with my bus ticket in my left hand and a single red brick in my right. Mr Howard looked at me again. “For goodness sake, put your ticket in the machine and go and sit down,” he ordered. “And put that brick away. The things you kids have in your school bags never ceases to amaze me…”
I mumbled a quiet ‘sorry’ as I shoved the brick in my bag and went and sat in the first seat I could find. Nobody spoke a word to me for the rest of the trip.
At school I waited by myself outside the classroom until the bell went. I was too scared to look at anyone or say a word. Three weird events already today – what else could go wrong?
Sitting at my desk, I tried to concentrate on what Miss Walker was saying. We were in the middle of maths – my favourite subject – but today I just couldn’t focus. I was supposed to be copying down multiplication problems from the board. Instead I kept coughing, trying to get rid of the fur ball stuck in my throat from the cat who got my tongue. I also noticed that my jumper was covered in little bits of cement from the brick wall, so I quietly picked at my sleeves. “Gilbert, will you get back to work please,” said Miss Walker, frowning. She’d already spoken to me twice before.
“Sorry,” I replied, as I tried to concentrate on problem number six. I wriggled around on my chair and took a sip out of my water bottle, trying to get comfortable. Miss Walker looked at me disapprovingly.
“I’m not sure what’s gotten into you today, Gilbert. You are normally the first one finished.” She turned to walk to the whiteboard and said over her shoulder, “It seems to me that you’ve got ants in your pants.”
I groaned. This was not going to be good.
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