Page 6 - Jeremiah Lollipop
P. 6
fell in, screaming and flailing their tiny arms. It was a scene of terrible
proportions, and probably not suitable for children to see.
But Jeremiah watched in amazement as the champion puffed wheat
continued to swim, and just as the final stroke of his little arm came
down, and the line was crossed, Jeremiah scooped the champion up in
his spoon and swallowed him.
“First to the line, first to my tummy!” he said with a big smile.
“What?” said Jeremiah’s dad, who was reading behind a newspaper
wall.
“I ate the champion!”
“The champion what?”
“Puffed wheat! Didn’t you see the race?”
“What race?”
“The Annual Milklake Swimming Competition.”
“Was it on the news?”
Jeremiah sighed. His dad never understood.
After breakfast, Jeremiah packed his bag and sat by the window. He
still had a few minutes to spare, and he couldn’t see any point in being
on time when he could be late. Being late was much more fun. It meant
being growled at by the teacher, and hearing the other kids in the class
whisper and giggle. It was like being famous.
He looked at the house across the road. It was a marvel, at least to him
it was.
