whoops-a-daisy! - Grandpa In My Pocket

“Oooh how lovely,” beamed Great Aunt Loretta. “What time do we
leave?” Grandpa pulled a face – it was just like Great Aunt Loretta
to invite herself on the boat trip. “Right! I’m going to help with the
picnic,” said Great Aunt Loretta, steaming
into the kitchen to find Mum.
“I can’t let you go off with Loretta and Mr
Whoops in one tiny boat,” said Grandpa.
“You’re definitely going to need my help
now!” He said. And he reached down
by the side of his chair and pulled out his
magic Shrinking Cap!
WHOOPS-A-DAISY!
By Mellie Buse and Jan Page
It was a sunny Sunnysands Saturday and I was very excited. Mr Whoops
had bought a new sailing boat and he’d invited me, Mum and my sister
Jemima on a trip.
“What about me!” said Grandpa. “Aren’t I invited?”
“Oh! Little boats can be very wobbly, Grandpa.” said Mum. “We
don’t want you falling in the water!” And off she went to make
a picnic.
“Mr Whoops is going to need my help,” said Grandpa. But before he could come up with a plan – DING DONG! Someone
was at the door. It was Great Aunt Loretta, Grandpa’s sister.
She came stomping into the room in her big red boots and
waving her bag in Grandpa’s face.
“You never told me Mr Whoops had bought a
boat!” she shouted.
“It’s true,” I said. “She’s called Whoops-a-Daisy and Mr
Whoops is taking us all on a trip round Sunnysands Bay.”
“Not the Shrinking Cap, Grandpa!” I cried.
But up he stood, on went the cap and
WHOOOOOOSH! Grandpa shrank to the size of a coffee mug!
“Catch me if you can!” He called. And he was off, as usual, having a
great time!
“Come back, Grandpa!” I whispered, running after him. But you know
what Grandpa’s like when he’s wearing his Shrinking Cap – there’s
no stopping him.
“All right, I’ll take you,” I said, “but you must promise to behave.”
“I always behave!” smiled Grandpa.
Jemima was coming downstairs so I quickly picked Grandpa up and
put him in my pocket.
“Oh! I suppose Grandpa’s gone for a little lie down, has he?” she
said. That’s what everybody thinks when Grandpa shrinks.
Mum and Jemima rushed around gathering towels and sunhats.
Great Aunt Loretta made some sardine and strawberry jam sandwiches and whizzed up some more Green
Gloop. I knew Grandpa would want to eat
Great Aunt Loretta’s weird food so I packed
some scrummy things into my Captain
Dumbletwit lunchbox.
WHOOPS-A-DAISY!
At long last we managed to leave the house. We got into Campo and
Mum drove us to the beach. I sat in the very back on my own. Except I
wasn’t really on my own – I had Grandpa with me.
The sunshine was dancing on the sea as we pulled up by the beach huts.
Mr Whoops was waiting for us. He was wearing a funny sailor’s cap
which was far too big for him and kept falling over his eyes.
“Hello!” he boomed cheerfully running towards us, his arms full of things.
“I wasn’t sure what to bring so I brought everything – lifejackets, fishing
nets, flippers, even a telescope.” And at that moment he tripped up and
dropped everything onto the sand. “Whoops!” he laughed.
Mr Whoops picked up the oars and started flapping them
about in the water. He had no idea how to row.
“We’re just going round and round in circles!” screamed Aunt Loretta.
Grandpa popped his head out of my backpack and said, “I told you so!”
“I’m hungry!” said Great Aunt Loretta, opening the picnic basket. “Anyone for a sardine and strawberry sandwich?” We all shook our heads.
Loretta took a huge bite out of one. “YUM!”
I was sitting on my own at the back of the boat - except I wasn’t really on
my own, I had Grandpa with me. I put my bag behind my back so that he
could look out of the top.
Grandpa peeped out of my back pack and sighed, “And this is just the
beginning!”
“This rowing isn’t getting us anywhere,” Grandpa said. “Ask Mr Whoops if
he can put up the sail.”
“Whoops-a-Daisy” was at the water’s edge. She was painted red with
white stripes so she almost looked as if she was wearing Mr Whoops’
jacket. A voice from behind us made us all spin round.
“Great idea, Grandpa!” I whispered. I turned to Mr Whoops. “Can you
put up the sail Mr Whoops?”
“Oooh! I like a boat with a stripy trim!” It was none other
than Mr Liker Biker. He was wearing swimming trunks but
he still had his cycle helmet on which looked a bit odd.
It would have been a great idea if Mr Whoops had known how to do it.
Unfortunately, he didn’t have a clue. He fussed around with this rope,
then that rope. He undid knots and then did them up again, but the ropes
kept slipping and he got in such a tangle it looked like pirates had tied
him up!
“What are you doing here, Mr Liker Biker?” demanded
Great Aunt Loretta, rather rudely. “You can’t go in
Whoops-a-Daisy, there’s no room.”
“I don’t want to go in Whoops-a-Daisy, thank you. I’ve got
THIS!” And he gestured towards a bright green pedalo. “Oooh I like a
pedalo on a hot summer’s day – it’s a bike on water you see. Look at its
shiny pedals! Hmmm…” He twiddled his bushy moustache. “I suppose
that’s why it’s called a pedalo!”
Mr Whoops gave us all life-jackets to put on and we climbed into
Whoops-a-Daisy.
“All aboard!” he cried, pushing the boat off the sand and into
the sea. “We’ll go out as far as Squawk Island then head back
in the direction of the lighthouse.”
“Cheerio!” waved Mr Liker Biker. “Have fun!”
Grandpa whispered “What’s going on? I can’t see from here, I need to
be higher up.”
“Stay right where you are, Grandpa,” I hissed. “Or they’ll see you.”
Mr Whoops was having a terrible time. The
boat was bouncing up and down and he
couldn’t keep his balance. The sail was flapping free in the wind and he couldn’t grab hold
of it. And he needed to grab hold of it so that
he could tie it to the long wooden boom.
“Duck!” Mr Whoops cried as the boom zoomed
across the boat towards us all. We all ducked.
The boom missed us but it hit my backpack.
Wheeeeeeee! SPLASH! It fell into the water.
WHOOPS-A-DAISY!
“Whoops!” This was a disaster! I had to get Grandpa back before he
floated away.
“Mr Whoops, please could you rescue my bag?” I asked. “There’s
something in it that’s – er – rather precious.”
“Try poking it with this!” said Great Aunt Loretta. She thrust an oar into Mr
Whoops’ hands and pushed him towards the edge of the boat. “I’ll keep
hold of you so you won’t fall in,” she said, grabbing him by the ankles.
So Mr Whoops leant over the side and Aunt Loretta
held onto him and Mr Whoops immediately dropped
the oar into the water.
“Whoops!”
“Give him the other oar!” shouted Great Aunt Loretta.
So Jemima passed him the other oar. Mr Whoops
waggled the oar about and then dropped it in the
water too.
“Now look what you’ve done!” screamed Great Aunt Loretta, letting go of
Mr Whoops.
“Whooooops!” cried Mr Whoops as he toppled headfirst into the water.
SPLASH!
While the others helped to get Mr Whoops back into the boat I saw that my
backpack was drifting out of sight. Grandpa was floating further and further
away. “MY BACKPACK!” I yelled.
“Oh I wouldn’t worry about that,” came a voice from high above me. I
looked up and guess who was sitting on the very top of the mast? Grandpa!
I gasped. “What are you doing up there? I told you to stay in
my backpack.”
“Good job I didn’t,” he replied. “Or I would have been half
way to Africa by now.”
Luckily everyone else was busy helping Mr Whoops wring out his wet
clothes so nobody saw Grandpa sliding down the mast – “Wheeeeee!”
Now I’d lost my backpack I needed to find another hiding place for
Grandpa. I looked around. Ah! There was Mr Whoops’ sailing hat.
I grabbed it and put it over him.
“Now stay there and keep out of trouble,” I whispered.
The good news was that Grandpa was under control. The bad news
was that Whoops-a-Daisy was out of control. We couldn’t use the oars
and we couldn’t use the sail, so now Mr Whoops was trying to start the
engine. He pulled really hard on the starter cord but SNAP! It came off
in his hand.
“Whoops!”
Now we couldn’t use the engine either! We didn’t know what to do. It
was quite windy and the boat was being tossed about. We were drifting
further and further away from Sunnysands towards Squawk Island. Its
dark jagged rocks loomed ahead. Hundreds of seagulls were sitting on the craggy ledges squawking loudly at us – which, by the
way is why it’s called Squawk Island.
“Help! We’re going to smash into the rocks!” squealed Aunt
Loretta. “We’ll sink! Abandon ship everyone!”
“Calm down, Loretta!” Mum called to her. “It’s all right
- we’re going to land on the sand.” Sure, enough the
boat missed the rocks and slid to a standstill on the
tiny beach. While everyone else was scrambling out
of Whoops-a-Daisy I lifted the sailor’s hat.
“What’s up?” asked Grandpa.
“We’re shipwrecked!” I whispered. And I put him in my pocket.
“I’m so sorry,” said Mr Whoops. And then he said it again. And again.
Great Aunt Loretta flopped down on the sand and took off her big red
boots. “We’re doomed!” she cried. “We’re going to have to live on
Squawk Island for ever and ever. And I hate squawking
seagulls." She was sounding very much like a squawking
seagull herself. “We’ve got no shelter and no food either!”
WHOOPS-A-DAISY!
“No food?” gasped Mum. “But what about the picnic?”
“I’m so hungry I could even eat a sardine and strawberry
sandwich,” mumbled Jemima.
“I ate them all on the boat,” admitted Great Aunt Loretta.
“It was the only thing that stopped me feeling seasick.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I brought some lunch. I’ve got a packet of crisps, a mini carton of juice, a raspberry yoghurt and some grapes. It’s
not much, but we can share.”
So I fetched my Captain Dumbletwit lunchbox from the boat and divided
everything between the five of us. I couldn’t share my yoghurt because I
only had one plastic spoon but I let Jemima lick the lid. And I saved a grape
for Grandpa – I was sure he’d be hungry by now too.
After our picnic – which as you can imagine, didn’t take very long to eat –
Mum took Mr Whoops’ telescope and stood at the water’s edge, looking out
for passing ships. Great Aunt Loretta lay flat on her back on the sand and
looked up at the sky for passing planes. But nobody came to rescue us. I
wanted to find Grandpa but I had no idea where he was… It wasn’t long
before I found out.
“Squawk! Squawwwk! SQUAWWWWWK!” A very cross
seagull was making a terrible din.
”It’s a squawking seagull.” complained Great Aunt Loretta.
“Make it stop! Go and talk to it, Jason.”
I walked over to the tree and peered up at the branches. Suddenly I knew
exactly why the gull was cross. Somebody was sitting in its nest and that
somebody was Grandpa!
“There’s only one thing for it,” said Grandpa. “I’ll have to go to Sunnysands
and get help.” He looked at the seagull. “Don’t suppose there’s any chance
of a lift, is there?”
“SQUAWWWWK!”
Grandpa grinned. “I’ll take that as a no…”
“SQUAWWWWK!”
The bird had decided it was time for Grandpa to leave the nest. It gave
him an almighty shove with its beak.
“Whooooah!” Grandpa cried out as he fell – I quickly held out my hands
and caught him. “Good catch, Jason!” He laughed, brushing bits of old
feathers off his trousers. “And while I was falling I had a brilliant idea. I
need a boat. A tiny boat of course to suit my size. Something made of
wood, or plastic. A little box would do…”
In no time, Grandpa and I had a plan. I took the lid off my Captain
Dumbletwit lunchbox and transformed it into a Grandpa-sized
boat with a napkin as a sail and a juice straw for a mast. I wrote
the words “Please help us, we’re stuck on Squawk Island – from
Jason Mason!” on the napkin and told everyone I had put a message in my lunchbox and was sending it out to sea.
“That’s a wonderful idea, Jason,” said Mum. I took the lunchbox down to
the shore. While nobody was looking, Grandpa jumped out of my pocket
and climbed aboard. I placed the tiny boat on the water and gave Grandpa a push off. The wind caught the paper napkin and Grandpa sped
away, paddling for all he was worth with my plastic spoon. I stood on the
beach and watched the lunchbox disappear into the distance. There was
nothing I could do now but wait.
As time passed I started to worry about Grandpa. I imagined him sitting
in my lunchbox, battling against the waves, the paper napkin sail flapping
furiously in the wind. What if there was a storm and he was blown offcourse? He might end up in Africa after all.
But I needn’t have worried. Grandpa was an excellent sailor and he
reached Sunnysands beach in no time at all. He pulled up on the sand
and jumped out of the lunchbox.
Mr Liker Biker was lying on a towel, sleeping under the shade of a stripy
parasol. He was still wearing his cycle helmet, of course. Grandpa took
the paper napkin off the drinking straw mast and crept towards him. He
leaned over Mr Liker Biker’s face and tickled his moustache with the
napkin.
“Phwrr!...What was that?” Mr Liker Biker opened his
eyes and sat up. Grandpa dropped the napkin and
quickly hid behind the parasol. Mr Liker Biker
scratched his moustache, looking around for the
culprit. Then he noticed the napkin.
WHOOPS-A-DAISY!
,” he read
“Please help – we are stuck on Squawk Island. From Jason Mason
ta
Withou
out loud. “Bells and bike chains!” he cried. “I must rescue them!”
second thought, he leapt to his feet and ran to the pedalo.
him and
Grandpa ran after Mr Liker Biker as fast as his little legs would carry
seat.
climbed onto the back of the pedalo, hiding behind Mr Liker Biker’s
Grandpa
Mr Liker Biker pedalled and pedalled, without stopping even once.
him to keep
willing
was most impressed. He stood behind Mr Liker Biker’s seat,
pedalling all the way to Squawk Island.
Mum was standing on the beach, looking through Mr
Whoops’ telescope. “Help’s on its way!!” she cried out,
excitedly.
Back on the shore Mr Liker Biker was thanked by everyone all over again
and Mr Whoops said sorry many, many more times. Then we all got
back into Campo - Mum, Jemima, Great Aunt Loretta and me – and set off
home.
As soon as we reached the house, I rushed indoors ahead of everyone
else and put Grandpa down on the floor. He took off his Shrinking Cap
and came back to his normal size.
“We did it, Jason!” he said. “Teamwork!”
“Yes Grandpa - teamwork!” I replied. “Now hadn’t you better change out of
your wet clothes?”
Mr Liker Biker pedalled his way onto the beach and
jumped off the pedalo with a flourish.
He rushed into his bedroom, closing the door behind him just in time. A
few moments later, out he came out again, wearing clean trousers and a
new blue shirt.
“Never fear, Liker Biker’s here!” Great Aunt Loretta leapt
into his arms.
“There you are, Grandpa!” said Mum. “What a good job you stayed at
home.”
“Mr Liker Biker! My hero!” she cried, giving him a big
squelchy sardine and strawberry kiss.
“You’ll never believe what happened to us!” said Jemima. “We were
shipwrecked on Squawk Island!”
ge!” He
“I had to come!” said Mr Liker Biker. “Just as soon as I got your messa
held up the napkin and waved it.
“I’ve always wanted to go to Squawk Island,” said Grandpa. “I’ve heard it’s
full of squawking seagulls.”
“I knew your clever idea would work, Jason!” said Mum.
Great Aunt Loretta looked at him, surprised. “How did you know that?”
idea. And
I just smiled. I couldn’t tell her it had actually been Grandpa’s clever
speaking of Grandpa, where was he?
“You didn’t stow away on the boat, did you Grandpa?” laughed Jemima.
back of the
“Pssst! Jason! Over here,” Grandpa whispered, peering round the
Mr Liker
get
–
pedalo. “We’re not finished yet. There’s some rope in the boat
to
back
isy
Biker to tie the rope to the pedalo, then he can tow Whoops-a-Da
Sunnysands.”
so that he
So that’s what we did. Mr Whoops sat in the other seat of the pedalo
ps-a“Whoo
in
sat
could help Mr Liker Biker with the pedalling. The rest of us
all
they
that
ted
Daisy.” Mum, Jemima and Great Aunt Loretta were so exhaus
fell asleep. I had a feeling that Grandpa was exhausted too.
He sat in my pocket and stayed there quietly for the whole
journey, which was very unusual!
Grandpa winked at me and I winked back at Grandpa. If only they knew!