Where Is Bobby?

By Beth Dayley

“ZOOM! ZOOM!” Bobby flew into the room with his arms outstretched, almost knocking the lamp over.

“Please be careful, Bobby,” his mother reminded him.

“I’m not Bobby, I’m a jet plane flying around the world.”

“Well then, Jet Plane, please fly carefully so you don’t crash,” Mother suggested.

Bobby flew out of the back door, zooming loudly.

A few minutes later, Mother was putting a casserole into the oven when she almost tripped over Bobby. He was crawling on the floor, growling and snapping his teeth.

“My goodness, Jet Plane, you startled me. What’s the matter, did you crash?” Mother asked.

“I’m not a jet plane, anymore. I’m an alligator and I’m looking for people to eat. CRUNCH! CRUNCH! You might taste good.”

“Oh, no, Alligator,” Mother said, picking up her broom and sweeping the “alligator” into the living room. “I’m too tough and mean to eat.” She heard the make-believe alligator crunch and grrrr his way across the room.

“Sue, please come and set the table,” Mother called.

Bobby, dwarfed by Daddy’s hat and shirt and stumbling in Daddy’s enormous shoes, came into the kitchen with Sue.

“Where’s the paper?” he asked in a deep voice.

“Alligators don’t read papers, do they?” Mother asked.

“I’m not an alligator. I’m Daddy.” Bobby said, sitting back in Daddy’s chair, with the newspaper completely covering him.

“Daddy, would you ask everyone to come and eat,” Mother said a few minutes later. When Bobby didn’t answer, she looked behind the newspaper. There was Daddy’s hat, shirt, and shoes on the chair but no Bobby.

As Father came in from the backyard Mother went looking for Bobby. She found him out on the sidewalk on his hands and knees, barking at the cars.

“Please come in and eat, Bobby,” Mother said.

“I’m not Bobby. Can’t you see I’m a mean dog scaring the robbers away?”

“Well, Doggie, come on in and eat,” Mother said.

Bobby barked and romped to the table. Sitting on his “hind legs” and panting, he started lapping up his soup.

“Now, just a minute. We don’t allow dogs at the table, Mother,” Father said. “Please take the dog out back and give him some dog food to eat.”

“But I’m not a dog anymore,” Bobby wailed.

“Well, I’m afraid we don’t allow alligators and jet planes at the table, either,” said Mother.

“I’m not a jet plane or an alligator now.”

“Then who are you?”

“I’m Bobby.”

“Oh, Bobby,” Mother said, giving him a big hug, “We’re so glad to see you! There have been too many strange things and people around here today. And I’ve missed my Bobby.”

Bobby began to laugh. “It’s fun to be a jet plane and a dog and an alligator,” he said. “But I like best being just your Bobby.”

Illustrated by Pat Machin