the little boy

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Once upon a time, in a far away land, there lived a little boy. This little boy was not a Prince, he had a face only a mother could love, and there were oftentimes when he could be a little bit silly. And yet, he was quite a popular little boy, especially with the girls. His name was not Georgie Porgie, but he probably did make some girls cry, and he was likely to run away when those pesky boys came out to play. This little boy worked hard to build up an empire, one full of nodding dogs, big egos and luscious ladies. He was both a Bullyer* and a bullyee*, with wacky hair and big clumsy hands. One day the little boy was invited to a party. He was very excited as this was the party of a girl who once held his hand and laughed at his jokes. There was just one little problem ... a lot of this girl's other friends didn’t like him. Oh no! It had nothing to do with his constant red tie, although a lot of the children – including the girl – loved the colour blue. It was more to do with him being a great big, not particularly clever, clumsy oaf. A buffoon, if you will, one who tended to open his mouth before his Mummy had a chance to check what was coming out of it. Besides, the party was already blessed with one loveable buffoon with wild hair. Surely there wouldn’t be room for another? The little boy squirmed. He sighed. He didn’t know what to do! He wanted to go to the party, but he didn’t want the children to mock him, snub him or question his views. How sad and angry that would make him; who knew what unwise words that would make escape from his mouth. So the little boy did the only thing he could think of to do. He stomped his feet, scrunched up his face and he wailed, I don’t wanna go! I hate that toy house everyone made me! I'm not gonna play with it! And his Mummy patted him on the head and said, There, there, my little troll. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. You’re the most important little boy in the whole wide world! The little boy smiled, put his thumb in his mouth and fell promptly asleep. The End. *This is my fairytale; I’m allowed to indulge in made-up words.