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The Forgetful Elephant | Funny Tales for Kids

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As we all know, elephants never forget. Yes, an elephant’s memory is a thing remarkable. Like a steel trap from which nothing can escape. It is for this reason that one should be very careful when borrowing money from an elephant. It doesn’t matter how many years go by, he’ll never forget so you might as well cough up right away cuz, let me tell you that is not a visit you ever want to get, especially when you have some people over and…

I digress.

The point is that elephants have great memories…except for Peter. Peter, for whatever reason, had the worst memory of any elephant in history. He couldn’t remember anything. He couldn’t remember where he left his things, what he had said to his friends, or whether it was Bill Paxton or Jeff Daniels in that one movie.

But worst of all is he forgot when he made plans with people. Anyone who knew Peter well had, on more than one occasion, known him to show up very late with some pathetic apology or excuse. Most elephants were annoyed by Peter’s chronic lateness (that’s if he remembered to show up at all), but they had come to accept it about him.

But not Susie.

Susie was Peter’s girlfriend and she was getting good and fed up with him standing her up all the time. He didn’t mean to, of course, he simply forgot things, but just the same it was beginning to make Susie feel like she didn’t matter to him at all when nothing could be further from the truth. Finally, after he had missed three dinner dates in a row, she gave it to him straight.

“Tomorrow night is our anniversary. If you aren’t right on time for dinner…we’re through!”

Poor Peter didn’t want to forget this time, so before he went to bed he tied a big red ribbon around his trunk so that when he woke up the next morning he would see it in the mirror and it would remind him of his date.

But Peter’s memory was so bad that when he woke up the next morning and looked at himself in the mirror he saw the ribbon and knew that it was there to remind him of something…but, true to form, he couldn’t remember what! Now Peter was panicking because he knew whatever it was he had forgotten this time must be something very important, if he had tied that ribbon on to remind him. So he spent the rest of his day going around to all the places he usually hung out and calling on all the friends he had ever made plans with and asked them if they knew what he was supposed to remember about today. But they all shook their heads and said they had no idea.

Well, the day passed quickly and Peter was beginning to panic. Then he had an idea. “Susie!” he said. “She’s the smartest elephant I ever met. She’s bound to know what I was supposed to remember today.” So he ran straight to see Susie and before he could ask her what he had forgotten, she turned to him and her face lit up.

“You remembered!” Susie cried and she gave Peter the biggest kiss of his elephant life.

So Peter and Susie had a lovely anniversary dinner…though Peter never did remember what that whole ribbon thing was about.


© Templeton Moss 2020

Short bedtime story written by Templeton Moss

Illustration by Templeton Moss and Pixabay, with thanks.


Honesty, Empathy, Love

1. Do you think it was okay for Peter to pretend he remembered his anniversary with Susie? Why or why not?

2. Do you know what an anniversary is? Why do you think Susie really wanted Peter to remember their anniversary?

Or read the complete Storyberries collection of books about love here:

Dubrovin Evgeniy Panteleevich

Evgeny Dubrovin

Silly fairy tale


They slept separately. Just in case someone knocks at night or there's an unexpected check. True, he would have had time to go down to his place; and there could be no verification now, but anyway, after having dinner together, they parted. Out of habit developed over many years ...

In the morning she helped him up from the hiding place to the house. He washed, shaved, read the newspapers that the postman brought (so that the postman would not come onto the veranda, she hung an iron green box on the fence), listened to the radio ... Recently, his head was spinning and his heart ached, and she gave him injections of medicine, which I bought it at the pharmacy for myself.

By ten o'clock in the morning it became dangerous to stay in the house, because at any moment someone could come in, and he would go down to his dungeon and work there until dinner... She served him dinner downstairs. And only in the evening, when deep twilight fell and life in the village almost died down, the man went upstairs again, and they dined together again . ..

Then he left home. For three hours she waited for him, sat on the dark veranda behind the closed door and listened to the rustles of the dark close forest. It was the longest hours of her life...

He came tired; if it was raining, then he was covered in mud, and she, choking with happiness that he had returned alive, hurriedly clung to his chest, then helped to undress, wash ...

She did not know if he suffered from loneliness, because he never spoke on this subject, and she was never bored with him, even if on long winter evenings he simply sat in a dark room and was silent.

But, probably, he did not suffer from loneliness, because he always suffered painfully when they had guests. Down there, he was nervous because of every loud cry upstairs, severely tormented by laughter. Then she, knowing how hard it was for him, pretended to be ill, lay down on the bed, and the guests fell silent in embarrassment or went out into the street, into the forest . ..

But lately she's started to notice strange things about him. He began to watch TV in the evenings longer than usual, and during the day he did not go down into the dungeon, but hid at the window behind the curtain and watched life in the village. One day he said:

- There comes a policeman. Call the tree here. I need to talk to him.

Seeing that she was standing pale, paralyzed with terror, he laughed hoarsely, not smiling:

– Okay… I was joking… Go, the cows are already coming back… Meet your Maruska.

But last night he firmly stated:

- You know what, old woman, look for guests... My head began to ache from the silence. I'm afraid I'll go crazy ...

- Maybe you should buy a transistor there?

- Don't need a transistor... Look for guests... It would be nice with children...

He wasn't joking this time. These words frightened her, but she did not argue, as she had never argued with him, she only dropped:

- You know, I can't take anyone. .. We have to wait for Naum to determine...

- Yeah, settle it somehow ...

He didn't say anything else, but she knew he was waiting and went to her boss, but he flatly refused:

- Wait for the command, Vasilievna. Your business is a soldier. Or bored alone? So find yourself some old man. I don’t mind,” the chief winked and laughed.

Then she began to walk to the gate, where cars of visitors stopped, tourists always crowded near the store, and, listening to words, laughter, looking at faces, she waited for an opportunity ...



Our Mom and Rhys, that is, of course, my wife, and even Rice's real Mom, have continuous meetings and meetings. Our Mom comes home from work very late and leaves very early, so Rhys and I don't see her very often. And given that I'm no more at home than Mum, and given Grandma and Grandpa's weakness for going to the movies with Rhys almost every day, it's safe to say that the five of us get together very rarely.

- That's all five together, - Rhys usually says in such cases, considering us a finger smeared in a cake.

Rice is our son with Mom. As a matter of fact, his real name is Boris, or more precisely, then Barberry. And to be absolutely precise - then Rice-Barberry Overeat Dead Rats. In any case, that's what his enemies call him in the yard, and sometimes his friends during the confrontation. In critical situations, Mom also uses this full name.

The phrase "That's all five together" Rhys usually says during the traditional Sunday lunch. This is where it all starts. Grandmother puts a fork or spoon on the table, depending on what she has in her hand at that moment, and begins to pitifully stroke Rhys, who is lying on her lap, on the head.

“Your truth, son,” says Grandma. “Look at your dad and mom, look. Even if you see your parents on Sunday. Poor thing, from such years to lose parental affection.

In this place Grandmother sighs heavily and strokes her grandson even more compassionately.

- I'm a homeless child! Rhys suddenly announces.

- Stop it, silly, - says Grandma. - What kind of homeless person are you? You still have a dad and a mom.

– I don’t have a father and mother, Rhys disagrees.

“No, you have a father and a mother,” Grandmother continues to insist.

“No-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o,” Rhys draws in falsetto, now with a touch of bass, and throws his fives at the big red rose on the cake.

- Why do you say that? Grandma asks. “And then mom and dad God knows what they’ll think.” They say I taught you.

- Grandmother gave birth to me! Rhys suddenly says.

It's about this place that Mother breaks down first, because of all of us, she has the weakest nerves.

- What the hell is this! Mom screams and forcefully throws some serving item onto the table. – When will it end?

- This will end when the child has a father and mother, - Grandmother immediately answers, - one at competitions, the other at meetings, and the child is homeless! He speaks the truth!

- It's none of your business!

- Mine! I am his grandmother!

- And I'm still a mother!

Grandfather, who is the most affable of all of us, is trying to resolve the conflict between the mother-in-law and the daughter-in-law in a peaceful way. Grandfather's face becomes like that of a diplomatic representative, that is, one does not understand whose side he is on, and Grandfather makes a speech, which almost always consists of the following words:

- Enough... enough... really...

With an impassive face, Grandpa shakes his head, even tries to soothingly touch his hand to Mother and Grandmother, but his diplomatic efforts do not bring any result. The skirmish is growing.

When the scream reaches its climax, Rhys suddenly slams his cream-stained fist on the table and shouts:

- Quiet! Stop the market!

There is an instant silence at the table. Everyone has heard this strong expression from Rhys many times, but it always impresses.

I am the calmest person in the family, because I am a wrestling coach and, to keep fit, douse myself in cold water in the morning, but, in my opinion, no one, even a wrestling coach who douses himself in cold water, can get the words out of the mouth of a five-and-a-half-year-old baby: “Quiet ! Stop the market!

“Get off the table,” I say calmly.

“Um,” Rhys replies, swinging his elbow at me and digging his fives into the cake again. He feels the powerful silent support of Grandmother.

- Come out! I say even more calmly.

- Ym! Rhys replies vaguely as his mouth is stuffed full of cake.

“Even on Sunday they don’t give the child a normal meal,” says Grandmother.

- Look what they've turned him into! Mom screams at me. - This is a complete boor!

I myself can see that this is a complete boor.

- Come out! - I say again, still calmly, but goosebumps are already running down my back, as always happens in competitions before a decisive fight.

- Well, that's enough ... that's enough ... Indeed, - says Grandfather, and it is not clear which side he is on.

I win, of course, because I am a master of sports in Greco-Roman wrestling. I simply pull the boor out of the table, like a radish from the garden, take it to the bedroom and throw it on the couch.

Read "Stupid Tale" - Dubrovin Evgeny Panteleevich - Page 67

Well, because of this landing, everything worked out. Both Academician Kolka and Barin were not taken into the army. One had a reservation. Until the last hour, the one sent all the property of the reserve to the Urals ... And the other, during a hunt back in the thirtieth year, his entire right hand was crushed with a shot ...

So they began to leave with the last cart, and then the front rolled in. To dig our dugouts ... yes, right on that landing ... What was planted from an oak tree with a green leaf ... The master ran into them, shouting: “Do not dare to dig!” - he explains about the value ... And Kolka the Academician immediately ... “Dig,” he says, “We will plant others after the war ...” Well, then the quarrel between Kolka the Academician and Barin came out because of these oak trees ... The master told me after that even ... a fight was ... Kolka something academic, they say, slipped and fucked his head on a stone and died ... The master dragged him into the river so that they would not think of him ... Or maybe it wasn’t like that, who will know now . .. That same night the Germans came ... The master hid in my house, in the cellar ... The state built a house for me for good service ... Not permanently, of course, but it seems to be like a house for visitors. Scientists stayed with me from the region, from Moscow ...

So he came and said: “Hide me, Anya… I don’t want to serve the Germans… I’m not for either of them, I’m for the forest…” He knew that I loved him… Well, I hid… We went underground at night this one was dug with him... Here he lived... And when our people came, he was afraid to go out because of Academician Kolka.

Anna Vasilievna faltered, chewed her thin gray lips, as if considering whether to tell me or not, then shook her head and continued: ... And they didn’t look for him ... If they had looked for it, they had found it so long ago ... Naum saw how he carried Kolka to the river, That’s the thing, son ...

- Wasn't Naum at the front?

- How did it happen with Naum ... In the third year of the war, a moose hit him in the head with a hoof . .. So they didn’t take him into the army ... He seemed to be wounded ... And where did you see, son, that moose kicked? This story is dark ... Well, God be his judge ... Well, Naum saw how Barin Kolka-academician was dragged into the river ... After the war, he declared. They went from house to house, asked about Barin... She took a sin on her soul, son, said that she ran away with the Germans... Well, they stopped looking...

So he lived under my house for many years... I read books, wrote something... bought in the city ... He became a real scientist, just like Kolka the academician; well, maybe not like Kolka, but I read a lot of books ...

In the forest he again planted a planting with oak trees... Found acorns where our dugouts dug... From acorns and planted a planting... Almost every night I went there, watered everything, looked after...

I overlooked him today. He didn’t have to go to his oak trees ... He was painfully bad lately ... She ran to Naum for a syringe, look, but he’s already gone . .. He left ... He returned ... whiter than snow ... “Farewell,” says, “Annushka ... Sorry, if anything not so…” He lay down and died…

Anna Vasilievna fell silent for a minute, ran her hand over her dry eyes.

– My child was supposed to be born from him... So we... So as not to betray him... Everyone knew that I was with no one... Who else would have guessed... The son could be...

The hostess fell silent. I didn't know what to say either. Strange life, strange death...

– Will you help me dig a grave, son? Anna Vasilievna asked. - He wanted to be buried in the forest, and showed the place ... You would have dug a grave in the morning, and I would have gone to the village council, declared death ...

- All right, Anna Vasilievna ...

We silently crawled out of the dungeon. There were no more guests, the veranda was flooded with moonlight. I went to my room.

Rhys fiddled sleepily on the bed.

– Dad, where have you been for so long? he asked indignantly.

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