Special Edition Smashwords
Webbster and Button
Go Golfing or Who Sat
On My Cornbread
by
KC Remington
Webbster and Button Go Golfing or
Who Sat On My Cornbread!
How to ruin a perfectly good day. Well wait a minute! Let’s start from the beginning …
As every day had happened in their perfectly simple lives, the sun came up, Webbster and Button yawned and stretched in their beds, then went down to the kitchen to have their perfectly simple breakfasts of tea and toast.
Today Webbster went down first and a few seconds later Button heard a bloodcurdling scream from below, ‘WHO SAT ON MY CORNBREAD!!!’
‘Oh brother, here it comes,’ said Button with a voice filled with resignation.
As he walked into the kitchen he calmly said, ‘I’m sure I wouldn’t have the faintest idea. Maybe it was …’ hoping an inventive lie would cast suspicion on another likely innocent.
But before he could finish, Webbster interrupted, ‘OHHH NO! What! How could you?! Look at the indentation on it! Whose bony little transom does that look like!? YOURS!’
‘OK OK,’ confessed Button, realizing the chase was lost. ‘But why did you leave it on a chair? I thought it was a cushion!’ he said, still trying to deflect his fault.
‘WHAT!?’ exclaimed Webbster, ‘MY CORNBREAD LOOKS LIKE A CUSHION! Did you think to notice it was by the window to cool off?’
‘I think you ought to cool off,’ laughed Button, ‘it’s still ok, just a bit ….’
‘A BIT WHAT!? SAT ON!?’ moaned Webbster. ‘Ohhh, there goes my breakfast!’
‘Aw let’s heat it up and it’ll come right back to normal,’ said Button.
‘EEEEUUUUWWWWW!’ shouted Webbster. ‘Never, never, never!’
‘Well it’s not going to bother me any,’ announced Button, and after it was heated, piece after piece, paw after paw, he started to eat the whole thing!
Webbster couldn’t watch the step by step destruction of his so carefully crafted cornbread, so he went out on the porch to have his normal breakfast of tea and toast. But not before leaving a sarcastic, ‘Bon Appetit!’
Minor squabbles had always slowed the lives of Webbster and Button but they both knew, at the end of the day they would always be the best of friends and that their trust in each other was their armor against the rest of the world, or at least their world.
As often said, days followed days in their perfectly simple lives. They had no worries. Their vegetable garden kept them full all year. Their old friends the crows visited once in awhile to see if they were alright and bring them some corn. Then after their morning chores were done they would sit down to decide what to do next.
‘I vote.’ announced Button, ‘we go fishing!’ Summer, spring, winter, or fall, it was his often told refrain. And the fact that they had just done the same yesterday, the day before that and the day before that, did not dissuade Webbster from agreeing, ‘I second that!’
Reason was not their strong suit. Day after day, year after year, they had never caught a fish. But an imaginary goal along with resolution often leads to success and a happier life. And if anything, they were happy.
‘That pond down by the Misty Woods has too many frogs in it,’ said Webbster, ‘I think they’ve scared all the fish away.’
‘Or they ate em!’ said Button.
‘Frogs don’t eat fish,’ said Webbster.
‘But the fish don’t know that,’ countered Button, ‘That’s why they’re gone.’
‘OK. Let’s try that pond over by the crows,’ said Webbster. ‘It’s a longer walk but we may have better luck.’
‘Lead the way!’ said Button, ‘Here’s to our better luck!’
‘We’ve never had any!’ groused Webbster.