Read Horrid Henry Shows Who's Boss Online
Authors: Francesca Simon
3 Horrid Henry and Moody Margaret
Henry was horrid.
Everyone said so, even his mother.
Henry threw food, Henry grabbed, Henry pushed and shoved and pinched. Even his teddy bear, Mr. Kill, avoided him when possible.
His parents despaired.
“What are we going to do about that horrid boy?” sighed Mom.
“How did two people as nice as us have such a horrid child?” sighed Dad.
When Horrid Henry’s parents took Henry to school they walked behind him and pretended he was not theirs.
Children pointed at Henry and whispered to their parents, “That’s Horrid Henry.”
“He’s the boy who threw my jacket in the mud.”
“He’s the boy who squashed Billy’s beetle.”
“He’s the boy who…” Fill in whatever terrible deed you like. Horrid Henry was sure to have done it.
Horrid Henry had a younger brother. His name was Perfect Peter.
Perfect Peter always said “Please” and “Thank you.” Perfect Peter loved vegetables.
Perfect Peter always used a hankie and never, ever picked his nose.
“Why can’t you be perfect like
Peter?” said Henry’s mom every day.
As usual, Henry pretended not to hear. He continued melting Peter’s crayons on the radiator.
But Horrid Henry started to think. “What if
I
were perfect?” thought Henry. “I wonder what would happen.”
When Henry woke the next morning, he did not wake Peter by pouring water on Peter’s head.
Peter did not scream.
This meant Henry’s parents overslept and Henry and Peter were late for Cub Scouts.
Henry was very happy.
Peter was very sad to be late for Cub Scouts.
But because he was perfect, Peter did not whine or complain.
On the way to Cub Scouts Henry did not squabble with Peter over who sat in front. He did not pinch Peter and he did not shove Peter.
Back home, when Perfect Peter built a castle, Henry did not knock it down. Instead, Henry sat on the sofa and read a book.
Mom and Dad ran into the room.
“It’s awfully quiet in here,” said Mom. “Are you being horrid, Henry?”
“No,” said Henry.
“Peter, is Henry knocking your castle down?”
Peter longed to say “yes.” But that would be a lie.
“No,” said Peter.
He wondered why Henry was behaving so strangely.
“What are you doing, Henry?” said Dad.
“Reading a wonderful story about some super mice,” said Henry.
Dad had never seen Henry read a book before. He checked to see if a comic was hidden inside.
There was no comic. Henry was actually reading a book.
“Hmmmm,” said Dad.
* * *
It was almost time for dinner. Henry was hungry and went into the kitchen where Dad was cooking.
But instead of shouting, “I’m starving! Where’s my food?” Henry said, “Dad, you look tired. Can I help get supper ready?”
“Don’t be horrid, Henry,” said Dad, pouring peas into boiling water. Then he stopped.
“What did you say, Henry?” asked Dad.
“Can
I
help, Dad?” said Perfect Peter.
“I asked if you needed any help,” said Henry.
“I asked first,” said Peter.
“Henry will just make a mess,” said Dad. “Peter, would you peel the carrots while I sit down for a moment?”
“Of course,” said Perfect Peter.
Peter washed his spotless hands.
Peter put on his spotless apron.
Peter rolled up his spotless sleeves.
Peter waited for Henry to snatch the peeler.
But Henry set the table instead.
Mom came into the kitchen.
“Smells good,” she said. “Thank you, darling Peter, for setting the table.What a good boy you are.”
Peter did not say anything.
“I set the table, Mom,” said Henry.
Mom stared at him.
“You?” said Mom.
“Me,” said Henry.
“Why?” said Mom.
Henry smiled.
“To be helpful,” he said.
“You’ve done something horrid, haven’t you, Henry?” said Dad.
“No,” said Henry. He tried to look sweet.
“I’ll set the table tomorrow,” said Perfect Peter.
“Thank you, angel,” said Mom.
“Dinner is ready,” said Dad.
The family sat down at the table.
Dinner was spaghetti and meatballs with peas and carrots.
Henry ate his dinner with his knife and fork and spoon.
He did not throw peas at Peter and he did not slurp.
He did not chew with his mouth open and he did not slouch.
“Sit properly, Henry,” said Dad.
“I am sitting properly,” said Henry. Dad looked up from his plate. He looked surprised.
“So you are,” he said.
Perfect Peter could not eat.Why wasn’t Henry throwing peas at him?
Peter’s hand reached slowly for a pea.