An alternative take on Julia Donaldson’s The Gruffalo, featuring all the things that turn us mamas into angry monsters.

 

A child took a stroll, throwing everything he could,
A dad saw the child while not doing what he should.

“Where are you going to, small, messy child?
Let’s play catch close to where these dishes are piled.”
“It’s terribly kind of you, Dad, but no –
I’m going to play with the Mamalo.”
“The Mamalo? What’s a Mamalo?”
“A Mamalo! Why, didn’t you know?”

“She’s easily irritated
And she’s always hot,
And when things aren’t done,
she shouts a lot.”

“Where is she now?”
“Complaining about your thoughtlessness on the phone,
Threatening to break a part of you that is without a bone!”
“The part without a bone? I’d better be on guard.
I wonder if I should play the ‘I’ve been at work, unlike you, all day’ card.

“Silly old Dad! Doesn’t he know,
There’s no such thing as a Mamalo?”

On went the child, throwing everything he could,
An older sibling saw the child while not doing what she should.

“Where are you going to, little bro? Watch where you tread!
Let’s ignore the mess I’ve made and watch YouTube instead.”
“That’s frightfully nice of you, sis, but no –
I’m going to sit with the Mamalo.”
“The Mamalo? What’s a Mamalo?”
“A Mamalo! Why, didn’t you know?”

“Messy rooms make her stomp,
shaking the fat on her thighs,
She’s strong enough to carry eight heavy bags,
Including the two under her eyes!”

“Where is she now?”
“Pulling the head off a Barbie,
While making a plan to cancel your party.”
“Cancel my party? I’ll tidy the Megablocks,
But first I’ll finish watching someone take a toy out of a box.”

“Silly old Sis! Doesn’t she know,
There’s no such thing as a Mamalo?”

On went the child, throwing everything he could.
The TV caught his attention, the way it should.

“Hey, you old fart! Life insurance you should buy,
So you don’t burden others when you selfishly die!”
“That’s wonderfully good of you, TV, but no –
I’ll be sure to tell the Mamalo though.”
“The Mamalo? What’s a Mamalo?”
“A Mamalo! Why, didn’t you know?”

“She’s extremely tall,
Her tummy wobbles like jelly,
When it shows things she dislikes,
She swears at the telly.”

“Where is she now?”
“Sitting on the toilet and I spied
Her angrily flicking through the TV Guide.”
“A TV guide? Who still uses those?
Oh dear! She’ll have spotted all the scheduled Muslim documentary shows.”

“Silly old TV! Doesn’t it know,
There’s no such thing as a Mamal…

…Oh!”
But who is this creature who’s flustered and hot?
Her voice is hoarse because she’s been shouting a lot,
She’s stomping and wobbling and has bags under her eyes;

Upon seeing all the mess, she huffs and she sighs.

She’s tall and her tummy wobbles like jelly,
She’s mumbling swearwords now she seen what’s on telly.

“Oh help! Oh no!
It’s a Mamalo!”

“Let’s get changed,” the Mamalo said.
“It’s time for you to go to bed.”
“Maybe later, but before I do,
I want you to see I’m in charge of all you.
Just walk behind me and soon you’ll see,
I can get anyone to listen to me.”
“All right,” said the Mamalo, bursting with laughter.
“You go ahead and I’ll follow after.”

They walked and walked till the Mamalo said,
“I hear the moron with the spotty bag ahead.”
“It’s the TV,” said the child. “Why, TV, hello!”
The TV took one look at the Mamalo.
“Switching off due to inaction,” was the message it showed,
And, quick as a flash, went into standby mode.

“You see?” said the child. “I told you so.”
“Amazing!” said the Mamalo!

They walked some more till the Mamalo said,
“I hear talk of mashems and fashems ahead.”
“It’s Big Sister,” said the child. “Why, sis, hello!”
His sister took one look at the Mamalo.
“Goodbye, YouTube! Time to call it a day!”
And she quickly began to put her blocks away.

“You see?” said the child. “I told you so.”
“Astounding!” said the Mamalo.

They walked some more till the Mamalo said,
“I hear the rustling of a crisp packet ahead.”
“It’s Dad,” said the child. “Why, Dad, hello!”
Dad took one look at the Mamalo.
“I’m going! I’m going!” Dad said, against his wishes,
And reluctantly picked up his dirty dishes.”

“Well, Mamalo,” said the child. “You see?
Everybody listens to me!
Now if there is something that you’d like me to do,
It will cost you a chocolate biscuit or two.”
“A chocolate biscuit? That’s a small price to pay,
If it means you’ll go to bed when I say.”

The house went quiet and all because
The child got his own way, like he always does.