2 Bertha the Blubberer

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BERTHA the Blubberer BERTHA WAS A BLUBBERER. She would sob. She would howl. She would bawl. The little girl was only eight years old, but she must have spent seven of them blubbering. Anything and EVERYTHING would set her off.

Loud noise Silence Bright lights The dark Small dogs Large dogs Medium-sized dogs Rodents of any kind Red socks Frogs Toads Tadpoles especially Bouncing balls Fireworks Dust The heat The cold Ducks, geese and swans Orange juice with bits in Burnt toast Kettles Stickers Wet grass Park benches Men with tattoos Low-flying aircraft The colour purple Cat hair Rain Waterslides Mud Anything made of plastic Christmas crackers The raisins in raisin biscuits Bouncy castles Smells of any kind, even nice ones Clouds Moustaches Vegetables Burps Monobrows Nostril hair Ear hair Anyone in a hat

The little girl had a younger brother called William. From the day he was born Bertha was beastly to him. She hated having to share her parents' attention. Then one day Bertha discovered a Wonderful thing. Ste could cry and blame it all on her little brother. And the more she cried, the more attention SHE got. So the girl thought up more and more wicked plans to make William look horrid. Bertha's favourite ploy was to cry and cry and cry alone in her bedroom, her pretending her brother had hurt her. When Mother bounded up the stairs to see what was wrong, Bertha would blub through a river of tears, "Mama, it was William! He pinched me! William pinched me, hard, on the arm!" Sometimes she would elaborate on the lie by actually pinching herself. Bertha would then offer up the very tiny red BLOTCH on her arm as evidence of her brother's beastliness. "WHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH she would wail.

Then Mother would burst into her son's room next door to confront the boy. Young William was usually reading or playing quietly with his earplugs in. He had endured a lifetime of bawling, and had therefore fashioned earplugs out of marshmallows so he could get on with things in peace. "Why did you pinch your darling sister?" Mother would demand. "What?" William would reply. It was hard to hear with marshmallows in his ears. "And why have you got marshmallows in your ears?" William would take out the marshmallows and protest his innocence. "I haven't touched her, Mother," the boy would plead. "I have been reading in my room the whole time!"

"A likely story!" Mother would declare. "No pudding for you after dinner tonight!" "But...!" "No pudding for a week!" "But...'" "No pudding for a month!" Eventually the boy would fall silent. He liked pudding. But not as much as his sister. The little girl loved pudding. Even more than she loved crying. Once, at the local bakery, she even offered to swap her brother for a slice of chocolate fudge cake. It was a large slice, but still...