This is a little story I wrote with Greg about a year ago. If you have recently had a young child, you will probably identify with Elfie’s antics. The thought was to write a series of these verses, each with a different focus…eating, sleeping, learning to crawl, family etc. Since we didn’t hear back from the publishers, we have stalled…but other ideas are brewing. Let me know if you like it (or not!) Try reading it aloud. Zanni x
Elfie’s Little Book of Eating
Zanni Arnot & Gregor Hacska
Sunlight shimmers through the window
early in the morning.
A sudden rumble in my tummy
sends a little warning.
It’s time to have my breakfast
and I just cannot wait!
My parents eat their porridge
but I prefer my plate.
Then Mummy takes me to the garden
to listen to the birds.
But to be honest, I’m still hungry
and nibble on her shirt.
Eating in the garden
is a lovely thing to do.
I eat some leaves. I eat the grass.
I eat a twig or two.
Later on, I chew my rattle -
a bit of rhythm, a bit of brunch.
I am glad it’s nearly twelve
and Mummy’s preparing lunch.
Mum makes mush, and we both know
there will be quite a mess.
When most food ends up on the floor,
it’s time to eat my dress.
At three, I nibble on my feet
but isn’t it just funny
that I’m still hungry despite all the food
and love I get from Mummy?
She gives me hugs, cuddles and kisses
and even books to read.
I love these books, I devour them,
but that’s not all I eat.
It sometimes seems that I am eating
all the things I see.
It makes me wonder if anyone
eats quite as much as me.
Dinner is at five o’clock
and I am spoilt for choice.
I get excited and squeal so loud
I nearly lose my voice!
My table, chair, cup or bib,
what should I eat, and why?
Thoughtfully I chew my spoon.
Could I give them all a try?
The bath is made for eating
though rather large it is.
I wonder why my Mum and Dad
don’t help me out with this?
It’s time for bed, and I’m exhausted -
I’ve eaten quite a banquet.
I think about the things I’ve done
while munching on my blanket.
I’ve eaten twigs, a leaf, some grass,
a book, a plate, a spoon.
I fall asleep and dream about
how I could eat the moon.
(as an aside, the character is called Elfie because my grandmother Joyce repeatedly got Elka’s name wrong…she was 92, so it was forgiveable. Generally she settled on Elfie. We thought it a cute nickname.)
