Trouble with Elves

“It is really fortunate that my hair is as white as snow because this would turn anyone’s hair white. What made you do such a silly thing?” Connie stood hands on her ample but curvy hips surveying the mess before her. The barn smelt beautiful except for the odd farting and belching coming from the reindeer. The two elves tried to look sorry but mischief popped from every pore of their bodies, the munching reindeer looked very happy.

Connie knew she should punish them but how? After all, they supposed they were doing a good thing, how were they to know she had not baked all 356 cakes, yet.

Sam and Noel had decided to add a little festive cheer to the reindeer’s breakfast. They had achieved it by borrowing Connie’s large tub of treacle, another of golden syrup, some festive cranberries and cherries (because Sam loved them), and created a Christmas cake for the reindeer. Sam scuffed his toe off the ground releasing a beautiful scent of mixed spice,” Sorry Connie, we just well… we thought they should have something Christmassy, “

“Hmm right. Let’s start your punishment off with a little cleaning up, then you can wash the reindeer and then…” As she set out the full weight of her punishment, the elves lost all sign of twinkling and festive cheer. 

“That stuff is for girls and we are not girls!” She heard Sam moan as she left them to try and create a little Christmas miracle herself by making 56 Christmas cakes out of thin cold air.

Connie busy baking did not notice a lack of noise each evening but Santa did. “Okay, Connie, spill. Have you locked the elves up or sent them off to watch all of the Santa movies? Why is it peaceful?”

Connie decided to investigate. Together they searched the many elf houses and all of the workshops. Nothing, not an elf in sight. “If they have been elf napped, Christmas is in trouble. It may have to be cancelled.” To console himself, Santa tested another Christmas Cake.

However, next morining all the elves were present in the workshop and again that evening it was too quiet. It was the click clack noise that gave the game away. Santa looked at Connie, “should I be worried?”

She smiled. “Only if you are a reindeer.”

This is what they saw..

Mind you, Rudolph did look happy in his Christmas jumper.

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Bob’s Diary: Why me?

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The trouble with being such a sociable charismatic dog is simple, Maria keeps putting me in stories. Here is a short one. ( I’ve met Molly. She is cute and she feeds me jelly babies.)

Children’s Story: 500 words.

 

Chasing the snow dragon.

 

Snowflakes twirled and danced about Molly. ” I love snow,” she said.

“Woof” Bob said jumping around her.

Molly whispered, “Quiet Bob. A  Snow Dragon might hear us and run away.”

The dog nudged her hand with his nose. He tickled Molly, making her giggle.

They began their search in the garden.

No Snow Dragon.

They walked through the gate, looking right and left. Molly walked past Gran’s kitchen door. They looked in the garden shed, even behind the coal bags but didn’t find a Snow Dragon. They did meet many birds and Gran’s fat cat.

They walked to the front garden. They met the postman. “Hi Molly. Where are you going?” he asked.

“We are going to catch a Snow Dragon.” She whispered.

“Well – don’t let him catch you.” He said.

“No. We won’t.” Molly told him.

Bob looked behind every tree.  Molly looked at the bare branches.

No Snow Dragon.

“Not even a squirrel, Bob.” She said.

Molly looked behind them. The snow was falling onto the ground covering her footprints. She couldn’t see her house. “Let’s go home,” She said.

Molly made a snow ball. She threw it. “Go get it Bob,” She said.

He sat and watched it land.  Molly sighed. Bob never chased tennis balls.

“Lets make a snowman instead.” She began by making a small ball and then dropped it on the ground. As she rolled it along the ground the snowball changed from being a round ball into a wobbly, wonky shape. It was big and getting bigger.

Bob helped by staying out of Molly’s way. She pushed her snowman into the garden saying, “I’ll finish you after tea.”

It was warm inside. Molly felt tired. She forgot about her snowball but told dad about her search for a Snow Dragon.

“I think there are no Snow Dragons,” she said. Molly felt sad.

“Maybe they are shy, creatures. Perhaps you should send an email to one and see what happens.”

“What would I say?” She liked this idea.

“That you believe in them but you would love to know what they look like. Wait then and see what happens. Granddad always said, they were magical creatures.”

Molly wiggled her nose as she thought about this. “Let’s do it, can you help please?”

The email was sent and Molly went to bed.

Next morning she got up and peeped out the window.

Her heart jumped for there in the garden was a large dragon. He was white and very still. Molly raced outside to see him. “Its a Snow Dragon.” She said to her dad who came to look at it.

“But Dad, how did he get here?”

“Molly you did say you would love to know what they look like, didn’t you?”

Molly nodded her head. “I did. Now I know they are amazing.And he chased my snowman away. ”

Dad took a picture of the snow dragon.

It hangs on Molly’s bedroom wall in case she forgets what they look like.