Horrid Henry's Christmas (9 page)

“Smells good,” said Granny.

“Mmmm, boy,” said Grandpa. “What a feast.”

Horrid Henry was so hungry he could eat the tablecloth.

“Come on, let’s eat!” he said.

“Hold on, I’ll just get the roast potatoes,” said Dad. Wearing his new oven gloves, he carried in the steaming hot potatoes in a glass roasting dish, and set it in the middle of the table.

“
Voila!
” said Dad. “Now, who wants dark meat and who . . .”

“What’s that crawling …aaaarrrghh!” screamed Polly. “There are spiders everywhere!”

Millions of tiny spiders were pouring from the holly and crawling all over the table and the food.

“Don’t panic!” shouted Pimply Paul, leaping from his chair, “I know what to do, we just—”

But before he could do anything the glass dish with the roasted potatoes exploded.

“EEEEEKK!” screamed Polly.

Everyone stared at the slivers of glass glistening all over the table and the food.

Dad sank down in his chair and covered his eyes.

“Where are we going to get more food?” whispered Mom.

“I don’t know,” muttered Dad.

“I know,” said Horrid Henry, “let’s start with Christmas pudding and defrost some pizzas.”

Dad opened his eyes.

Mom opened her eyes.

“That,” said Dad, “is a brilliant idea.”

“I really hanker for some pizza,” said Grandpa.

“Me too,” said Granny.

Henry beamed. It wasn’t often his ideas were recognized for their brilliance.

“Merry Christmas everyone,” said Horrid Henry. “Merry Christmas.”

My thanks to Susie Boyt, Amanda Craig, Judith Elliott, Fiona Kennedy and Kate Saunders for sharing their Christmas disaster stories with me.

Aerobic Al

Anxious Andrew

Aunt Ruby

Beefy Bert

Bossy Bill

Brainy Brian

Clever Clare

Dad

Dizzy Dave

Fiery Fiona

Fluffy the cat

Goody-Goody Gordon

Gorgeous Gurinder

Grandpa