Mildew and Mustard

Imagination is precious. As children we play with the box the toy came in, long after the toy has been discarded. As we grow older the education system grinds this imagination down, adding pressure to succeed and taking the fun out of being young. Release from this is sought through computer games, but these are the creation of other peoples imagination.

I had a conversation with a teacher recently, who was complaining because her rigid instructions on what to put on a Mothers Day card hadn't been adhered to by one of her seven year old pupils. The little girl felt she'd somehow 'got it wrong', and ended up not giving the card to her mum because it wasn't like all the rest.

Everyone's imagination is vivid, but it can be shut down by adults who believe it's their job to control instead of guide their charges.

With this in mind I asked a couple of children to give me the subject for 'a story'. They looked at each other and gleefully decided on 'fish guts.

Then they chose the names of their characters. "Mildew' and Mustard" they said, and looked at me expectantly. "Don't look at me" I said. "It's your story."

This is what we came up with.

"Mildew is the smelliest brother in the world" thought Mustard. "His feet smell, especially when he sticks them in my face. And he hasn't had a bath since he started to walk!'

That was seven years ago.

Mildew sat in his room, counting his fish guts. He arranged them in smells. Smelly, very smelly, and drop dead smelly. He had plans for these guts, and kept them in a special 'gut box'. It had a glass lid so he could keep a check on their progress.

His sister would go off like a fruit bat when she found them in the hood of her jacket.

It does seem mean, but Mildew reckoned his sister deserved it.

Mustard loved hot food. That's why everyone called her Mustard. She put chili's on her corn flakes, pepper on her ice-cream and mustard on everything else. It wouldn't have bothered Mildew, except she put something red hot in HIS food when he wasn't looking.

Last night Mildew had a drink of black currant juice. He swallowed twice before his tongue did something completely new. It exploded and blew a hole in the roof of his mouth.

Mildew found his voice, hiding in the fridge rubbing itself frantically against a packet of frozen peas.

"MUSTARD!" He screamed.

"Yes Mildew" smiled Mustard sweetly. "Oh, I quite forgot! I juiced a hundred of those nice little Mexican chili's and poured them into your juice bottle. I hope you don't mind.

She feigned horror. "You didn't drink it did you Mildew?!"

"The hottest chili's in the world" she shouted after him, "Mum! Mildews been drinking my chilli juice ..... Tell him not to!"

Mildew's mouth was so hot his teeth rattled and his face was falling off. He looked at his 'gut box'.

But fish guts were bad. After watching them mutate over 5 days he'd had second thoughts. Worms were wriggling, and the guts had turned a dizzy green. He held his breath and opened the lid, collapsing on the floor gasping like a fly hit by a litre of bugs spray.

"That would make a dung beetle throw up" he said to his pale green reflection in the mirror. "Perhaps I shouldn't be so mean - she IS my sister"

Mildew thoughtfully squeezed a blob of toothpaste. He brushed his teeth hard, before noticing it tasted a bit funny. He didn't have time to wonder how Mustard had managed to squeeze chili seeds into his tube of toothpaste. His mum found him downstairs with his tongue stuck to the inside of the freezer. His eyes were wild, cross-eyed and popping.

She pulled Mildew away from the freezer with a gentle ripping sound

"Oh dear" she said, "I hope that wasn't your tongue Mildew."

"Of Courth idth my tong" he shouted, leaping around looking for something heavy to hit Mustard with. "It'th my nuthy thithter, she'th twying to kwill me. "I'm goin' du dwag her intho the garden by her pethky toe nails and pull her dorky legth off .... AND DON' YOU TWY AND THTOP ME!!!!"

Mildew wasn't worried anymore about putting fish guts into Mustard's hood but, as he awoke the next morning and heard his mother scream he knew the day had gone horribly wrong. Slowly he opened the curtains and peered out of the rain splattered window... Why on earth was she wearing Mustards Jacket.

Children should be seen, heard and allowed to let their imaginations run riot. Their future depends on it.

I am an Australian children's writer, presenter, motivator and freelance journalist. We run a company called Chocmint Ltd, committed to making a profound, positive, fundamental difference to the lives of young people.

We tour schools, theatres and youth facilities around the world presenting our Imagination Creation show to tens of thousands of young people every year. http://www.chocmint.com

The shows demonstrate and share powerful creative writing and cartooning techniques, and we take the fear away from children about looking bad, getting it wrong and making mistakes. We are all about demonstrating how young people can live the life of their dreams by doing what they love and have real passion for. For more, and bookings, please go to: http://www.chocmint.com

"Think it, Say it, Do it,
FOLLOW YOUR DREAMS,
LIVE YOUR PASSION,
LOVE YOUR LIFE.