Silly Tales For Children: Silly Tales For Children, #1

1: The Boy Who Grew Flowers

Charlie Crumb was a rather ordinary boy, except for one rather extraordinary thing – flowers grew out of his ears. It wasn't like he had flowerpots tucked behind them, mind you, or long stems poking out. No, the flowers sprouted directly from the sides of his head, as if his ears had decided to be helpful little gardens.

Now, you may be thinking this must have been very peculiar, and you'd be right. Imagine Charlie laughing at a funny joke, and suddenly, a pair of bright yellow daisies would spring forth from his ears, bobbing with his giggles. Or picture him feeling shy in a new classroom, and delicate pink lilies shyly blooming as if to say, Hello there, I'm friendly!. Sneezes were the most colourful displays, as a whole flurry of petals would be sent into the air like fragrant confetti.

At first, growing flowers was a bit of a surprise. Charlie's mum shrieked when she first saw a tiny daisy pushing its way out, and Charlie's dad stared at his son's ear as if it had grown an extra nose. But soon, the Crumb family, along with the whole of Little Puddleton-on-Sea, learned to expect the unexpected when it came to Charlie.

The truth is, it wasn't such a bad thing. Charlie's flowers brought a touch of cheer wherever he wandered. Grumpy Mr. Grumbleton, the butcher, always cracked a smile when Charlie walked in, the scent of Charlie's ear-blooms reminding him of his long-lost garden shed. Miss Crinklebottom, the schoolteacher known for her frowning and tutting, was caught admiring a miniature orchid that had popped up during a particularly exciting history lesson.

Of course, there were a few hiccups along the way. Charlie had to take extra care not to catch a cold – a sneeze fit could easily turn into a flowerpot explosion! He had to avoid particularly gloomy conversations, as sad thoughts seemed to wilt his blooms right away. And bees, well, they were very keen admirers of Charlie's ears, making going out into the garden a bit of a buzzing adventure.

Despite the occasional bumblebee tickle, Charlie came to rather like his flowery feature. It made him special, and it certainly made the world a brighter place. People always knew when Charlie was nearby from the sweet scent that followed him, like a walking meadow with a touch of surprise.

One sunny afternoon, Charlie decided to visit Mrs. Bloom, the oldest lady in town. Mrs. Bloom loved her garden, but her old bones didn't get around much these days. So, what did Charlie do? He sat with Mrs. Bloom by the window and told her all sorts of stories – funny ones, surprising ones, even a slightly scary one about a grumpy troll who mistook a daisy for a freckle. Mrs. Bloom's eyes sparkled with delight, and with every laugh and every gasp, Charlie's ears put on a flower show just for her. Sunflowers, forget-me-nots, even a single, velvety rose appeared and disappeared with Charlie's tale.

By the time his story was over, Charlie's ears were quite bare, but Mrs. Bloom had the widest smile. Charlie Crumb, she said in her papery voice, you are a walking bouquet of sunshine!

And she was right. Charlie, the boy who grew flowers, might have had some very odd gardening problems, but he learned that the most extraordinary things can sometimes be the most beautiful. And with a giggle and a sprinkle of pollen, Charlie always spread a little bit of happiness wherever he went.

2: The Case of the Giggling Goldfish

In the cheerful town of Hopscotch-on-the-Hill, where raindrops danced on rooftops and cobblestones whispered secrets, lived a girl named Lily. Her house wasn't like the others – it leaned to one side as if perpetually giggling itself. And inside was her very best friend in the whole world: Bubbles the goldfish.

Now, Bubbles wasn't an ordinary goldfish, not by a long shot! You see, when Bubbles laughed, big, wobbly laughter bubbles rose from his tiny fish mouth, filling the room with a chorus of giggles that could chase away even the grumpiest of moods. If you told Bubbles about a silly sausage dog who mistook his tail for a squeaky toy, he'd blow a flurry of giggle-bubbles. If you read him a story about a penguin learning to fly by flapping its bottom instead of its wings, his tank would bubble over with glee.

Lily and Bubbles were a terrific pair. She'd spin tales, and he'd punctuate them with cheerful squeaks and pops of bubbly laughter. But one gloomy Tuesday morning, something wasn't quite right. Bubbles seemed a bit droopy in his bowl. Even Lily's best jokes, like the one about the banana who couldn't split because he had no sense of humour, couldn't make him smile. It was a fishy mystery of the highest order!

Lily, who was about as determined as a squirrel protecting its acorns, decided to turn into a detective. Her first suspect? The cat, Marmalade. Surely, Marmalade with his twitching whiskers and hypnotically green eyes had scared away the giggles! After all, cats weren't known for their love of bubbly fish. But after a stern interrogation (and a few choice tuna treats), Marmalade's alibi was watertight. He'd been napping by the fire all morning, proving his innocence.

Next, Lily suspected the fish food. Maybe it had gone a bit stale, and with it, Bubbles' good cheer. But even after testing a sprinkle herself (it tasted mostly of crumbs and disappointment), the giggle situation remained the same.

Lily was baffled! As rain pattered outside, she sat with her chin in her hands next to Bubbles' tank. He looked up at her with big, round eyes, looking quite glum himself. Suddenly, it dawned on her. It wasn't just Bubbles who'd lost his giggles; she hadn't been feeling very cheerful herself lately. Her new school shoes were just a bit too squeaky, and Miss Frownybottom, the headteacher, had a voice that could make porridge curdle.

With a gasp, Lily had a brilliant idea! She'd find something to make herself laugh until her sides hurt, and surely Bubbles would catch the giggles too! She dashed to her room, digging out a dusty book of the silliest jokes ever written. Returning to Bubbles, she began:

Why did the scarecrow love his job? Lily asked, barely able to keep a straight face. Because he was outstanding in his field!

Bubbles stared at her.

...How do you make a tissue dance? she continued, a giggle already bubbling up in her throat. Put a little boogie in it!

Bubbles finally cracked a tiny smile, releasing one little giggle-bubble. It soared to the top of his bowl and burst, showering them both with a splash of joy.

Encouraged, Lily kept at it, joke after joke, until she was rolling on the floor in a fit of laughter. Soon, Bubbles couldn't contain himself either! Giggle-bubbles flew everywhere, transforming the room into a swirling, bubbling sea of happiness.

That afternoon, a passerby on the street might have been startled to hear a strange chorus of giggles coming from the crooked house – a little girl's laughter mingling with the happy bubbly squeaks of a very relieved goldfish. Lily had solved the case! Sometimes, all it takes to find your own giggles is to share a few with the ones you love, even if they have fins.

3: The Magical Pancake Tree

Nestled at the very edge of the Enchanted Whipped Cream Forest, where sugarplum clouds floated lazily and maple syrup flowed in tiny streams, there grew a tree quite unlike any other. It wasn't a tall oak or a whispering willow, no indeed! This peculiar tree was a Pancake Tree, its branches laden with fluffy, golden wonders, ready for a drizzle of syrup and a sprinkle of joy.

Now, this extraordinary tree belonged to the most cheerful gnome you ever did meet: Griddlebert. With his rosy cheeks, a belly that wobbled merrily as he walked, and a beard as white as a dollop of fluffy whipped cream, Griddlebert and his tree were a sight to behold. He cared for his Pancake Tree like one might care for a dear friend. With his bright green apron and a twinkle in his eye, he'd rise before the sun, carefully selecting the plumpest, most sun-kissed pancakes, always making sure to leave plenty behind to grow even bigger. Each afternoon, he'd spread a checkered blanket beneath the tree's shade, welcoming everyone, big or small, to a delightful pancake feast.

You see, in the Enchanted Whipped Cream Forest, all sorts of creatures lived side-by-side. There were the Swishytail Squirrels, known for their bushy tails and love of acrobatics, the Bumblebottom Badgers, rather grumpy unless you brought them extra honey, and even a wise old Owl called Hootsby, who always attended the feast in his finest spectacles. Everyone adored Griddlebert's pancakes and the cheerful gatherings they brought.

But one fine morning, with birds chirping their usual breakfast tunes, Griddlebert woke with a jolt! Dashing to his beloved Pancake Tree, he let out a gasp louder than a bear with a stubbed toe. Not a single, solitary pancake remained! His tree was as bare as a grumpy badger's belly before breakfast.

This was preposterous! A disaster! A calamity in the form of a missing pancake! Griddlebert stomped his little boot, a frown replacing his usual smile. A mystery was afoot – a sticky, syrupy mystery – and he, Griddlebert Figglebottom, Master Pancake Chef and Friend to All, was determined to solve it. He scratched his beard, tucked his trusty spatula into his apron, and set off into the woods, following a faint trail of crumbs...and one particularly faint vanilla scent.

The trail led him deeper into the forest, past a stream bubbling with laughter (or perhaps it was just particularly ticklish that day), and under a canopy of leaves shaped like giant biscuits. His tiny ears twitched at every rustle, expecting the pancake pilferer to jump out from behind a toadstool at any moment.

And jump out someone did! A tiny, furry whirlwind exploded from a bush, covered head to toe in powdered sugar and holding...a half-eaten pancake. It was Pipkin, the youngest Swishytail Squirrel, looking positively sheepish...and sticky. With giant, teary eyes, Pipkin explained that he'd woken up with a tummy rumble the size of a dragon's sneeze and, with no other breakfast in sight, temptation had taken over.

Griddlebert sighed, then chuckled. The mystery was solved, but now he had a very guilty-looking squirrel on his hands. With a gentle pat on Pipkin's acorn-brown head, he reminded him of the best thing about his tree – there were