Just Ask Dennis

Early one Saturday morning, Nigel raced into the kitchen for breakfast, beaming from ear to ear, because waiting on top of the table was a brand new, unopened box of cereal.

Inside was the Cereal Kid toy that all of the other kids in his class had been talking about.
Nigel had been dreaming about this moment all week. At school, his friends whispered about the toy as if it was magical. He had pictured it in his mind a hundred times—bright colours, mysterious powers—and now, it was finally his turn.

Nigel quickly opened the box and carefully began pouring cereal into his bowl. The crunchy flakes rattled against the porcelain, the sweet smell filling the air. He leaned in just as a small thud echoed from the box—the toy had landed. His heartbeat quickened.

“Yes!” he shouted, a little too loudly, “I’ve got it!”

In a flash, he finished his breakfast and pushed the bowl into the middle of the table, ready to bolt out the door. He was just grabbing his bat, a ball, and the toy, when a familiar voice interrupted.

“Stop right there!” It was his mum. “Where do you think you’re going?” she asked.

“To play cricket,” Nigel replied innocently.

“Not until you’ve tidied your bedroom, you’re not,” commanded mum. “You’ve got friends coming to sleep over tonight; you don’t want them to see your room like that, do you?”

“Like what?” asked Nigel.

Nigel’s mum pushed open his bedroom door. There were toys, comics, books, trainers, computer games, smelly socks, half-empty drink bottles, tins, knives and forks scattered all over the floor. The air smelled faintly of old crisps, and sticky patches clung to the carpet. A half-built Lego tower leaned dangerously to one side. Mum gingerly picked up a sock between two fingers as if it might be radioactive. She walked over to the fish tank and strained to see any fish because the tank was so dirty.

Calmly, mum closed the door, looked at Nigel, and said, “This, young man, has to stop. You are not going anywhere until your room is clear, and you can start by putting that breakfast bowl in the sink and washing it!”

Nigel shrugged his shoulders and huffed. He was desperate to go outside and show off his Cereal Kid. Did it have the special powers all of the other kids had talked about? He was going to have to wait to find out, and he wasn’t a very patient person…

Stomping into his bedroom, he plonked the toy on top of the filthy fish tank.

“Where do I start?” he sighed, reaching out to turn on his music. Suddenly, everything went very quiet.

“We’ll start at the beginning,” a voice replied.

“Who said that?” asked Nigel in surprise, hoping he was hearing things.

“It’s me. Dennis.”

The voice was deep yet cheerful, with a strange echo, like it came from inside Nigel’s head. His eyes widened, and his hands gripped the bedspread.

“Ha, ha!” laughed Nigel with surprise and delight. “I thought the others were lying, but you really can talk. Can you grow like they say you do?”

Dennis began to grow. He grew and grew until he was as big as Nigel. “Wow!” Nigel exclaimed, moving backwards onto the bed. He didn’t want to admit it, but although he seemed really calm, he was a little bit frightened.

Just then, there was a knock on the bedroom door and Nigel’s mum rushed in.

“Are you alright?” she asked, “I heard shouting.”

“Look!” exclaimed Nigel, excitedly, pointing towards Dennis. His mum turned and stared at the fish tank.

“Yes, I know,” she said in disgust, “absolutely filthy!”

“No,” corrected Nigel, “not the tank. Dennis.” Nigel’s mum looked at the plastic statue standing on top of the fish tank, then looked back quizzically at her son. “It’s Dennis,” explained Nigel. “The toy from the cereal box. He can talk and everything.”

“Yes, Nigel, of course he can,” mum replied sarcastically.

“Can’t you see him?” Nigel pleaded.

“I can see that you haven’t touched this room yet, and if it’s not done in the next thirty minutes, you’re not having your sleepover!” said his mum, closing the door firmly behind her.

Nigel looked at Dennis, then slumped down onto the bed. “She didn’t see you,” he said sulkily.

“Adults can’t see me. What fun would that be?” Dennis replied. “Sometimes children don’t want to listen to adults, simply because they’re adults. Does that make sense, Nigel?”

Nigel thought for a while. “I guess so,” he agreed reluctantly.

“So, we’re going to tidy your room together and I’m going to teach you how to keep it tidy,” announced Dennis. “The trick is to take a big job and break it down into small pieces. But first,” Dennis continued, “I’m going to teach you how to finger breathe.”

“Finger breathe?” Nigel asked, “What’s that?”

“Copy what I do,” instructed Dennis, holding up his left hand and widening his fingers like a starfish. Gently, he took the forefinger of his right hand and slowly ran it up and down the contours of his open hand as if there was an invisible pencil drawing around it.

“Starting with the thumb,” said Dennis, “run your index finger up your fingers while breathing in, and when you reach the top of each finger, pause for a few seconds, holding your breath. Then bring your index finger back down while breathing out. Repeat this action from your thumb on all your fingers—all the way to your little finger.”

Nigel followed Dennis’s every move. His shoulders dropped, his frown faded, and the tight feeling in his chest melted away like ice on a sunny day.

“Now you’re much calmer,” said Dennis, “we can start on your room.”

Dennis and Nigel set about cleaning the room.

Dennis picked up a sock and held it at arm’s length. “This should be in a museum,” he said seriously. “In the Ancient Smells section.”

Nigel laughed. Dennis began humming a silly cleaning song, and before long, the work didn’t seem like work at all. First, they picked everything up off the floor, then they put all of the bottles and cans into a bag for recycling. Dennis explained how important it was to recycle, and then showed Nigel all of the things he could do to keep a tidy bedroom.

After twenty-five minutes, mum knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Nigel shouted. When she opened the door, she couldn’t believe her eyes: the whole room was spotless.

“Nigel, this is lovely!” she said, looking proudly around the room. “How did you manage to do it so quickly?”

“I just asked Dennis,” Nigel replied. “I just asked Dennis.” He winked at the toy, sitting on top of the clean fish tank… and when mum wasn’t looking, Dennis winked back.

The End 

 Follow-up Questions:

1. What was special about the cereal box Nigel opened at breakfast?

2. What did Nigel and Dennis put into a bag for recycling?

3. Why do you think Dennis taught Nigel to ‘finger breathe’ before they started tidying the room?

4. How might recycling bottles and cans help the environment?

5. Have you ever had to clean up a really messy room? What helped you get it done?

6. If you had a talking toy like Dennis, what job or task would you want it to help you with?