“Will you stop wasting that cream and come upstairs to bed, woman,” Gerard muttered from the hallway as Gurta put a saucer of cream and a small slice of cake out by the hearth.
“I’ll be up in a moment, Gerard; go up without me,” she responded to him.
“I don’t know why you leave that crap out at night; you're going to draw bugs, you hear,” Gerard muttered as he headed up the stairs.
When he was gone, Gurta stood by the hearth and looked around the kitchen. Eventually, she started talking, “You must forgive him. He’s an old fool. He wasn’t raised with the old ways the same as I. Good night.”
Gurta headed upstairs to get ready for bed.
“I’m missing my green pajama shirt, Gurta. Have you seen it?” Gerard asked as soon as she entered their bedroom.
“Not since we washed and put it away yesterday. Wear your blue pajamas,” she answered him back.
“Those came up missing last week. Woman, what are you and that housegirl up to during the day? This is the fifth piece of my clothing to come up missing this month alone.”
“Maybe the Bro….” Gurta started to say.
“Don’t you dare say it. Just don’t you dare,” Gerard glared at her as he interrupted his wife.
“It’s just you could be a little nicer to him and see if you get your clothes back,” She said instead.
“Gurta! Now, damn it, that’s enough of this nonsense,” Gerard bellowed at her, “There are no Broonies!!”
“Don’t you dare offend him! Don’t you dare!” Gurta stomped to the bed and crawled into it, pulling the covers to her ears.
Gurta was well-rested as always the following day, but poor Gerard was not. He was very cranky and had several bruises beginning to form on his arms and legs.
“Are you ok, Gerard?” Gurta asked her husband.
“Not at all. It seems your Broonie kept pinching me last night, no matter where I went or put on,” he answered.
“Oh, no, Gerard, you offended him. He’ll leave!” Gurta worried.
“No, I don’t think he will. I made a deal with him. I’ll quit bashing him and being mean to you if he will just quit pinching me,” Gerard sounded as if he was going to cry. He continued, “He immediately stopped, and my clothes were back in the dresser this morning.”
“Oh, Gerard”
“When you go to town today, buy him the best cream we can afford,” Gerard said as he left the kitchen.
Gurta and the housegirl watched in wonder as the most logical man suddenly started believing in Broonies.
About the Creator
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Comments (7)
I love this; it reminds me of stories grandpa used to tell me down in the woodshop! Thank you!
Great story, like one's i grew up reading too myself. Haha, I believe. 💙 Anneliese
Your stories like this one, the Weedan, Pirate Joe, they all give strong vibes of Enid Blyton! I enjoy your stories so much. It's like being a kid again! I loved this story!
I really enjoyed it.
This was kind of cute!
What ever you need to get your clothes back! Funny story!
Lovely! Everyone needs to believe in Broonies.