The Wumple

Millie loved drawing more than anything. But one rainy afternoon, nothing came out right. The ears didn't match. The legs were far too short. The smile went all wobbly. "It's WRONG," said Millie, and scrunched it up into a ball.

Into the bin it went. Plop. And that should have been the end of it. But that night, when the house was dark and still, the bin went... crinkle. Crinkle. CRUMPLE.

Out climbed a creature made of crumpled paper and crayon. One ear up and one ear flop, legs too short and a crinkly top, and a wiggly smile from ear to ear. "Hello!" it said. "You drew me! I'm a Wumple!"

Then the Wumple looked down at its crinkles and its wobbles, and its smile drooped. "You said I was wrong," it whispered. "Am I?" Millie's cheeks went hot. "Come on," said Millie, taking its crinkly hand. "Let's go and find out."

In the garden, a fat raindrop was about to splash a family of ladybirds. FLOP! Down came the Wumple's floppy ear, just in time, like a little umbrella. "Thank you!" said the ladybirds. A straight ear could never have done that.

Under the shed, a kitten was stuck, mewing and mewing. The gap was far too small for anybody to reach her. But the Wumple wriggled in on its short, stumpy, far-too-short legs, and led her safely out. Long legs could never have done that.

On the fence sat the grumpiest cat in the street. She had not smiled since last Christmas. The Wumple gave her its wiggliest, wobbliest smile, and the cat laughed so hard she fell off the fence. A straight smile could never have done that.

But as the sky turned pink, the Wumple began to go pale. Then thin. Then see-through. "What's happening?" cried Millie. "A drawing nobody wants," said the Wumple softly, "fades away by morning."

Millie ran. Across the garden, through the kitchen, all the way to the bin. Millie pulled out the crumpled paper and smoothed it flat, crinkle by crinkle, as gently as she could.

Then Millie pinned it to the fridge, right in the middle, where the very best things go, and signed it, like a real artist. And slowly, crinkle by crinkle, the Wumple came back.

"You're not wrong," said Millie. "You're a Wumple." And together, very quietly, so nobody would wake up, they sang: "One ear up and one ear flop, legs too short and a crinkly top, a wiggly smile from ear to ear. Hooray, hooray, the Wumple's here!"

Now, when Millie draws something wobbly, Millie never scrunches it up. Not ever. Because sometimes, late at night, a little voice from the fridge calls out: "Ooh! Is that my cousin?"