Danny's Don't Want Day

Danny's Don't Want Day

"I don't want to," was Danny's sulky reply, when his mum told him to
get up. He pulled the covers over his head, and closed his eyes. He'd
been so good for ages, and it had got him no-where. He didn't feel like
doing as he was told today.
Soon, it would be his sixth birthday, and he desperately wanted a
puppy. His friend Paul had a retriever called Poppy, and weeks ago,
she'd had ten beautiful puppies, and Danny had begged his mum and dad
to get him one. He'd promised to be good for ever, and to do everything
he could to help look after the puppy, but it had all been for
nothing.
Yesterday, after school, he'd gone to play with the puppies, and
they'd all gone! It wasn't fair. Ten people had a lovely new puppy, and
he wasn't one of them. He wasn't going to cry, but he really didn't
feel like being good today.
Minutes later, his covers were whipped off.
" Come on, Danny. Breakfast's on the table. Hurry, or you'll be late
for school."
"Don't want to go to school. Don't want any breakfast," said Danny,
stubbornly.
"What you want and what you get aren't always the same thing, Danny,"
said his mum. "Now, up. I'll count to ten."
Reluctantly, Danny rolled out of bed. He was feeling very
grumpy.
"Don't forget to clean your teeth," were his mum's parting
words.
"Don't want to," muttered Danny, under his breath, but when his mum
threatened to count, he knew he was pushing it.
Five minutes later, Danny was sitting at the table eating his
cereal.
"Hurry, Danny, find your schoolbag, and go. The school bus is
waiting."
"Don't want to go to school." said Danny, a mutinous look on his
face.
"One," said his mum in a warning voice. "Two."
That was enough for Danny. He pushed back his chair, gathered up his
school bag and left.
At 4 o'clock, Danny got home from school. He dumped his school bag in
the hall, and made a beeline for the television.
"Danny," called his mother, from the hall. "What have I told you?
School bag upstairs, and hang up your coat. No television till it's
done."
"Don't want to," muttered Danny, under his breath. To say it out loud
would make sure he saw no television that night. He hung up his coat,
dragged his schoolbag up to his room, then headed back to the
television.
"Danny," called his mother, before he'd even switched on, "come and
see........" Danny didn't want to hear the rest.
"I DON'T WANT TO," he screamed. It was nearly time for his favourite
programme and he was determined not to miss it.
His mum followed him into the room. Danny was close to tears. His
programme was starting in just three minutes.
"Danny, will you please listen to me?" asked his mum.
Danny hunched his shoulders, and refused to look round.
"If you're not in the garden by the time I count to ten, it's going
back." His mum left the room before Danny could utter one more 'I don't
want to.'
Danny knew it was serious, whatever it was. He could hear her
counting. Reluctantly, with a backward glance at his programme which
had just started, he followed his mum outside. His eyes opened wide
with amazement at what he saw. His dad was home, before Danny was in
bed for once.
"Happy birthday, Danny," shouted his dad, as he pushed a wriggling
bundle into his arms.
Danny started to sob, real tears flowing down his cheeks. They were
tears of happiness, though, and he buried his face in the soft fur coat
of the puppy his dad had given him.
"Well, Danny," said his mother with a laugh, "are you happy
now?"
Danny wiped his tear-stained face with a grubby sleeve, while he
clutched his new puppy under his other arm. He sniffed, and
nodded.
"Hush, now," said his dad, putting his arm around Danny's shoulder.
"Everything's alright What will you say when mum tells you it's time to
get up tomorrow?"
"I WANT TO," shouted Danny gleefully.