The Wedding

Once there was a young wombat named Benson, who lived in a very comfortable wombat hole with his mother and his two aunts, Lillibet and Moss.

Benson’s mother was going to a wedding.

“Why are you wearing that hat?” Benson said.

“It’s very becoming, and besides, hats are coming back in,” she said. “Everyone’s wearing them.” She looked in the mirror at herself. “I think it looks nice.”

Aunt Lillibet came in.

“What on earth are you wearing?” she said.

“Maisie lent me her hat for the wedding,” Benson’s mother said. “I think it looks fine.”

“If you think puce looks good on a wombat,” Lillibet said.

“What do you think, Benson?” his mother asked.

“Should I say what I think, or should I say what I think I should say?” Benson said.

His mother looked in the mirror again. “Your favourite socks are this colour,” she said.

“I don’t wear my socks on my head,” Benson said.

Aunt Moss came in. “Oh, how lovely! I love your hat,” she said.

Benson’s mother sighed and took the hat off.

“I don’t think it’s quite right,” she said.

“Can I wear it if you’re not going to?” Aunt Moss said.

She took off her old black hat and put the other hat on. It looked perfectly hideous.

“I think your old hat looks better,” Benson’s mother said. Her old hat used to be a teapot cosy.

“What will you wear?” Aunt Moss said.

“Oh I don’t need a hat,” Benson’s mother said. “I’ll be all right the way I am.”

Benson said to his mother, “I think you look perfectly beautiful the way you are.”

Benson’s mother smiled, and she looked perfectly beautiful.

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