The Dummy

My baby sister Chloe lost her dummy again.

Mum looked in the toy box, dad looked in the dustbin and I looked in the

kitchen cupboard. No dummies there, but I did find a tin of yummy baked beans and sausages.

“Whaaaaaaaaaaa! I want my nummy,” screamed Chloe.

Mum looked in the washing machine, dad looked in his work boots and I looked under the armchair. No dummies there, but I did find my red racing car and a piece of Lego.

“Whaaaaaaaaaaa! I want my nummy,” screamed Chloe.

Mum looked in the fridge freezer, dad looked in the laundry bin and I looked under the kitchen table. No dummies there, but I did find a half eaten bar of chocolate and a mouldy pea.

“Whaaaaaaaaaaa! I want my nummy,” screamed Chloe.

Mum looked in the oven, dad looked in the fruit bowl and I looked in the flower pot. No dummies there, but I did find a wiggly worm and half a yellow crayon.

“Whaaaaaaaaaaa! I want my nummy,” screamed Chloe.

Mum looked in the drawer, dad looked in the fish tank and I looked in the dog bed. Yes, I found it; Arthur the dog was asleep with it.

Mum gave Chloe a cuddle, dad sat down to read the paper and I washed the dummy. Peace at last; well, until next time.

“I love my nummy,” sighed Chloe.