A Bad Day...

Wombat stood at the kitchen window looking out over his backyard. Wombat surveyed the sky and wondered whether it would rain or not. Would it be worth starting some gardening?? He glanced at his reflection in the window. Something was not quite right... He looked again. There, on the fur at the top of his head he saw a slight movement. Wombat grabbed his glasses (he's as blind as a fruit bat without them) and squinted at his reflection again. What he saw horrified him! An ant on his fur, swinging gently with the movement of Wombat's head, was waving at him from his vantage point. Wombat screamed a long girly scream.. "...aaahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!"

He ran around the kitchen swiping wildly at the ant with his paws, scratching himself in the process (wombats have sharp claws). The ant thought it was great fun and wished he had thought to bring his three thousand brothers and sisters with him. Wombat was beside himself. His pathological fear of ants driving him to ram his head into the kitchen cupboards in order to rid himself of the ant. At last the ant was dislodged and crawled away to tell of his adventure.

When Wombat's friends came to collect him to go bowling, they found him curled up in the corner of the kitchen, in the fetal position, sucking a tea towel and murmuring something about ants taking over the world. It had been a bad day.....