My Children's story
A netball sized Glabrous with curled up toenails lives in my compost bin.
He appeared a month after I brought my compost bin, and when I tried to turn the compost with my fork.
I heard a growl from beneath the heap. Grrrrrrrrr. Then up popped a pink head with a banana peel draped over his forehead. He growled at me and showed his sharp teeth that overlapped each other, I recoiled and gripped my fork tighter. To my surprise, he smiled widely and bowed his head. I patted his head, and he purred, his furless skin felt smooth, so I called him Glabrous.
I invited him into my house, and his big feet made muddy prints on my kitchen floor. I made him a meal; he refused, I made him a bed he refused, then stood by my back door. My home wasn’t his environment; he liked his comforts: a bed of leaves and a smelly bin full of crawling insects. This was the only time he entered my house.
Now, I just observe him from my window as I typed. Sometimes he makes me laugh, when he sorts out his home, and his bare bum sticks up in the air as he chucks out unwanted rubbish from the bin.
When he does venture out, he bathes in my birdbath, while singing out loud and does yoga on the lawn. Waaaaaaah.
He lets me know what food he likes when I chuck out my food waste, by spitting unwanted food in my face. I now know, he loves bananas, apples, chicken and bread because he purrs when I chuck them into his bin.
I’ve only got cross at him once, when I came home to a garden of pulled up sunflowers. I told him off but he just looked at me and smiled, while pulling up another sunflower. I refused to feed him any scraps. He sulked and sulked.
The next day, I was woken by the sound of a crash. To my surprise, my Glabrous had cooked me a full English breakfast. He also gave me a hug.
After a while, he got picky with what I threw into his bin and he only wanted food scraps. No grass trimmings or leaves. So, I got a second compost bin, filled it up and when I went to turn it with my fork, a blue Glabrous appeared.
Now I have two Glabrous compost dwellers.