Mr Busy

(Author’s note: I’ve been reading lots of Mr Men books recently).

This is a story about a man called Mr Busy. Mr Busy was very busy. He had to get on a train every day, which was so busy that some people had to stand up, and sit in an office where other people asked him questions all day long. ‘What time is it, Mr Busy?’ they asked. 

‘Half past ten’, Mr Busy would reply.

‘What should I put in this email’? another person would, ask and Mr Busy would tell them.

‘Is it alright if I eat my lunch by the canal’, said another and Mr Busy said that he didn’t mind one way or the other. 

But it wasn’t just at work that Mr Busy was busy. 

At home Mr Busy had to wash up, busily, run a bath for Little Miss Busy, busily, stroke his (busy) cat and wash his clothes, as well as Mrs Busy’s and Little Miss Busy’s.

And then he’d go to bed and dream about being busy, before waking up the next morning, making two cups of tea, busily, feed his cat, go busily to the bathroom where he would brush his teeth, have a shower and then get dressed. The he would have to get back on the train again for another busy day.

Once a week Mr Busy would get on a different train, one that went underground, and play football with Mr Angry, who supported a team called Tottenham Hotspur, Mr Elbows, who was originally from Scotland, Mr Loud, who was a big man that supported the same team as Mr Busy, Mr Polite, who collected everyone’s money and Mister Mister, who sold lots of records in the 1980’s. (Some other people also played, including Mr Tall, who worked in a bank, Mr Writer, who worked for a pink newspaper, and Mr Competitive, who got very cross if he didn’t win).

Mr Busy busily picked two teams to play each week and if Mr Polite was away he sometimes collected the money from the other Mr Men and told some of the men to wash the bibs and carry home the balls they kicked around. This also made him very busy. 

And sometimes, Mr Busy had time to write a report on what had happened in the game and put it on the internet. But often Mr Busy was too busy to get this done, so he made up a story about how busy he was and used that instead.

In any case, the report was often very similar: Mr Tall had usually kicked the ball so hard that it had disappeared over the fence; Mr Angry had left before the game finished; Mr Scotland scored some goals, as did Mr Likesthechicks, (although he had hurt his legs recently) and Mr Competitive and Mr Angry were very angry with one another. 

The one time of the week when Mr Busy didn’t feel too busy was when he went to the pub after the game of football. In the pub Mr Busy would drink a pint of beer and talk about the game he’d just played, then drink another pint of beer and talk and about his busy job and his busy wife, as well as Little Miss Busy and the busy cat. 

And then he didn’t feel busy anymore, (until he went back home on the train).

So the moral of this story is that if you feel busy, drink some beer and try not to worry too much.

The End.

Friday 9^th February, the Year of our Lord Two Thousand and Eighteen

 

Yellow team: Ed, Paul, Steve, Andy, Charlie, Simon Gas, Michele and Joe

I hope you enjoyed that little story. Despite being Very Busy, I thought I’d try and post a match report from last week; the two teams were as above and the final score was something like 7-2 to the Yellows, chiefly because Peter – prizes if anyone could identify him in the Roger Hargreaves homage above – had to leave the field of play owing to his long-term ankle knack.

That said, Peter performed valiantly in goal, and the score only got out of hand once he’d had to retire hurt. For all that, the Blues put in a very honourable effort, with Danny being on hand to bag both goals, courtesy of some muscular Number Nine play and could have had a hat-trick had his heading been on song.

A warm welcome to Danny’s mate Stuart, or ‘Stu’, or “Stockport” if you’re Ian – he’s played three games in a row now and scored a very fine goal in last weeks’ match, the report of which may be lost to the mists of time, I am sad to say.

As for the Yellows, with plenty of young legs in Ed, Charlie, Joe and err, Andy, they were always going to be a tough proposition but the last word should go to Michele, who capped a characteristically impressive performance with some wonderfully understated finishing.

I may or may not be available for selection tomorrow as I’m on domestic duty, but hopefully this post will whet the appetite for future match reports.