Butter

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

One afternoon Benson’s mother was out at a meeting, and Aunt Moss was at her bee-keepers’ afternoon tea, and Benson was at home by himself with just Aunt Lillibet. Aunt Lillibet went to have a lie-down with her new library book, which actually meant she was having a nap. Benson started to feel hungry, so he thought he would have some bread and butter.

The bread part was easy, but the butter was very cold, and it was hard to scrape it off the block. Benson dug the knife in and pulled hard, and a big chunk of butter flew up in the air and nearly landed on the floor.

It didn’t land on the floor because a turtle called Lloyd was just walking past, and the chunk of butter fell on his head. Benson looked down, and he saw a turtle with a piece of butter on his head. The turtle poked his tongue out and licked the butter, then he shook his head. The butter fell on the floor this time, and Lloyd walked all over it. His turtle feet slid a little bit, and he rolled over and got the butter all over his shell.

Benson picked the turtle up and turned him up the right way, and the turtle toddled off, leaving shiny buttery footprints all along the kitchen floor. Benson picked him up again and tried to wipe the butter off Lloyd’s feet. He got butter all over his hands, and some on his nose where Lloyd tried to give him a turtle kiss.

Benson put the turtle down again and went and got some paper towel to wipe Lloyd’s feet with. When he turned around again, Lloyd was almost at the door. Benson ran and shut the door quick. “Oh no, you don’t!” he said. He tried to catch the turtle, but he slid in the butter on the floor and went wham! on his back upside down. Lloyd thought he looked like a furry brown hill and he started to walk up Benson’s tummy.

It was kind of tickly having a buttery turtle walking over his tummy, but Benson lifted Lloyd off carefully and carried him over to the bathroom. The trouble was, when he tried to open the bathroom door, his buttery hands just slid around the doorknob.

By now there was butter on his hands and his tummy where Lloyd had walked, and on his feet and his back and his nose. It was a strange greasy feeling. Lloyd was covered in butter too. “Don’t worry,” Benson said to him, “it’s only butter. It’ll wash off.”

Just then there was a knock on the door. Benson tried to open the door, but his hands just slid around and made the doorknob slippery. “Wait,” he called. “I have to wash my hands.”

Aunt Moss called from outside the door. “Benson, would you open the door for me, please? My hands are full of honey.”

“My hands are full of turtle,” Benson said. “Just a minute.” Holding Lloyd tightly, he went to wash his hands and slipped on the chunk of butter on the floor. Every time he tried to get up, he slipped some more, like swimming on the floor with no water. After a little while, he stopped. “Help,” he said quietly. He lay still, looking at the nice clean un-buttery ceiling.

Aunt Lillibet came out. “What is going on, Benson?”

“Don’t come into the kitchen!” Benson yelled.

Too late. Aunt Lillibet slipped on a patch of butter and fell down on her bottom. She looked at the butter everywhere, on the floor, on Benson, on Lloyd. “Moss,” she called. “Put the honey down and open the door. Be very careful how you come in.”

Aunt Moss wasn’t careful enough. She opened the door and walked in brightly. Benson said, “Look out for the…” Aunt Moss’s feet went into all directions. She dropped the container she was carrying and honey spread out all over the floor.

Just then at that very minute, Benson’s mother came home. She stopped in the doorway and looked at everyone on the floor, upside down and sideways. Lloyd was nibbling at the butter on his feet and Benson was sucking honey off his fingers.

“Oh,” she said. “Benson, have you been cooking? You just need some flour and you could make those honey biscuits you like so much. Only maybe you should use a bowl next time.”

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