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The Wizard's Toad-ally Awful Morningby Cynthia Williford |
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The wizard waved his wand and a fat old toad appeared on the floor of his workshop.“Why have you summoned me?” asked the toad in a surly voice. “I’m working on a speech for the annual wizards’ conference,” said the wizard. “I wanted somebody to listen to it.” “You can’t go around snatching toads from their beds anytime you feel like it,” said the toad. “It’s just not done.” “Sorry,” said the wizard, who was beginning to wish he’d summoned a friendly frog instead of the toad. “Shall I send you back?” “No,” said the toad with a sigh. “I’m here now. Might as well make the best of it. What is this speech about?” “It’s about the relativity of magic, and I want to . . . .” “Um, excuse me,” said the toad. “May I interrupt for just one second?” “What is it?” said the wizard. “This floor is frightfully hard and cold,” said the toad. “Might I have a cushion to sit upon while we talk?” The wizard thought this was a reasonable request, so he got a cushion for the toad. “Okay, you may proceed,” said the toad, settling down on the satin cushion. “My theory says . . . .” began the wizard. “Um,” said the toad. “I seem to be straining my neck looking at you from down here. Do you think you could possibly set me up there on that table?” The wizard sighed. But again, this seemed to be a reasonable request, so he moved the toad and the cushion to the table. “Ahhh, that’s much better,” said the toad. “I can see you perfectly now. You may proceed.” “My theory says . . . ,” began the wizard again, but he stopped when the toad cleared its throat with a loud harummph. “What now?” said the frustrated wizard. “Well,” the toad said, “you snatched me away from home before I’d had any breakfast. I really would be able to concentrate better if I could have something to eat.” |
The wizard sighed again. The toad was beginning to be more trouble than he was worth. Still, the wizard needed an audience to test his theory on and the toad would have to do.
“Very well,” said the wizard. “I will fix you some breakfast.” The wizard sat at the table and watched the toad eat its fly and mushroom omelet with a side of grasshoppers, a huge stack of pancakes made from lily pad flour, and a plate of rather large, still squiggling slugs. “Most excellent,” said the toad, when he had finished eating. “My compliments go out to the chef.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin, then pushed his empty plate aside. “Now, I think we’re ready to begin again,” he said to the wizard. The wizard waited to see if the toad had any other requests to make, but the toad remained silent. It made itself more comfortable on the satin cushion and waited for the wizard to speak. “Finally,” said the wizard, standing up to start his speech. “My theory on the relativity of magic goes like . . . .” He stopped. The toad’s eyes were closed. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” the wizard yelled at the toad. The toad’s eyes popped open, and he yawned. “I’m afraid that big meal has made me very sleepy. After all, you did snatch me right out of my bed. I think if I could just take a small nap, I would be in much better condition to listen to your speech.” “A nap?” the wizard said. “You want to take a nap? You’ve been here for an hour and a half and you haven’t heard one word of my speech yet. And now you want to take a nap?!” The toad smiled. “And after that,” said the toad, “I will need to take a bath to freshen up, and then I’ll need my daily hop, and then it will be lunch time . . . .” With a loud poof and a cloud of smoke, the toad disappeared. “That’s the last time I try to talk to a toad,” said the wizard. “Next time it’s a frog, for sure.” * * * Somewhere, on a lily pad not too far away, an old toad smiled as he settled down to take a nap. “Wizards aren’t very bright,” he thought to himself, “but boy, they sure can cook!” © 2004 |