Book Description

Bertie Bunny was lying in bed one bright sunny morning with Alfie, his beloved teddy bear tucked securely under his arm. Bertie's nostrils twitched excitedly as they detected the smell of food, in this case baking coming from the kitchen. Bertie threw poor Alfie aside as he leapt out of bed and pulled on his dressing gown and slippers. Alfie lay in a heap on the floor as Bertie flew down the corridor to the kitchen and towards the smell of baking that was coming from it. When Bertie reached the kitchen, mum was nearly up to her elbows in flour and was kneading the dough for bread rolls and splits as part of her preparations for this afternoon's tea party. She had invited some of her friends over for a girly afternoon of reminiscing about the olden days when they were young. Unfortunately mum had been unable to employ someone to look after Bertie so he would be sitting in on the tea party, a thought that filled mum with absolute dread. Bertie scampered across the kitchen and clambered up onto an area of the work surface that did not have flour on it. At the corner of his eye Bertie espied three bowls of butter cream. One was ordinary butter cream for the butterfly buns which had just come out of the oven, one had coffee flavouring and one had chocolate butter cream. The last two were for two sponge cakes that were cooling on a couple of racks nearby. Bertie stretched out his paw and was about to dip it in one of the bowls when he felt a sharp slap on his paw. Mum had seen a beige furry paw coming towards one of her mixing bowls, knowing whose it was she reached out just in time to prevent Bertie from dipping a paw or two into the icing. Bertie squealed as he withdrew his paw and rubbed it. Mum had hurt him and he did not like it. Gently, mum lifted Bertie down from the worktop and urged him to take his bath. After wiping her floury hands, she ran his bath and laid out his clothes in the bedroom. She felt sorry for Alfie who was still lying on the floor where Bertie had left him. She picked his bear up, made his bed and tidied up and then went back to prepare Bertie's breakfast. Meanwhile, Bertie was laying in his bath, telling Fred, his duck, about the day that was to come and how he was looking forward to eating the tea that mum was in the midst of preparing. Mum was still baking when Bertie having had his bath, came out for his breakfast. Mum had made the bread rolls and splits and was now preparing sausage rolls and vol au vents. Bertie's mouth watered and when he had eaten his boiled egg and soldiers, Bertie begged to be allowed to help with the tea party. Gently, mum advised that it might be better if Bertie went outside to play, but warned him not to get dirty. Bertie played with his football and dreamed that he was scoring in the World Cup Finals. As he played, he gave a running commentary to anyone who was listening, unfortunately there was no-one there but Bertie did not care, he was having such a good time. In the midst of his numerous celebrations after scoring a classic goal, Bertie heard his mother calling him. Obediently Bertie trotted inside. Mum had iced the cakes and sponges which left the mixing bowls with the leftover butter creams. Now licking out bowls was right up his street. Bertie virtually climbed inside the bowls to ensure that every last scrape was out of them. When he had finished, he was covered in butter cream of all flavours from the tips of his ears to the ends of his feet. Bertie was filthy. Mum was far from happy as she stripped Bertie of his clothing and placed him in his second bath of the morning. His shorts and tee shirt were placed straight in the wash and a fresh towel was laid out for him to dry himself. Mum searched out another set of shorts and a tee shirt whilst Bertie smiled as he lay once again in the bath with Fred. Meanwhile mum had finished all the baking and had placed the food under cloths ready to bring down to the lounge l