The Dragon of Nottingham - Bacon Bits

The dragon sniffed the morning air and was overwhelmed with a new aroma. And so he made his way downstairs and into the kitchen where the aroma was strongest.

"I love the smell of bacon in the morning," said Isaac's dad.

"You mean you love the smell of burning bacon in the morning" said Isaac's mother. "You've always got the burner on way too high. By the time the bacon gets to my plate there's nothing left but charcoaled bacon bits."

"We like our bacon crunchy. Don't we, Isaac?"

"Yes," said Isaac. "We don't like the gristly parts, Mom."

The dragon flitted over to the breakfast table and hovered above Isaac's plate of scrambled eggs and bacon.

"It's getting awful warm here at the table, dear. Are you sure you don't have the oven on, as well?"

"I'll get up and check, my darling. But I'm pretty sure the only warmth in this kitchen is coming from all the love I have for you."

"You're making me queasy, dear. Please stop it until after I've eaten."
"Ha! You say that now, but you won't be saying it when I get over there and smother you with sweet wittle kisses!"
"Oh, dear. I think I'm about to barf. You haven't even brushed your teeth yet. Save your kisses for the postman. He likes you better than I do."

"That's because he loves my cooking. he hands me the mail and I hand-feed him bacon. He doesn't like to get his hands all greasy. It makes a mess of the mail."

"That postman's a loony bird, same as you two."

"Now you take that back or I'll hold you in my arms and whisper sweet nothings in your ear."

"Please stop it now, you gimps," said Isaac. "All this mush talk is making my head hurt."

As his parents giggled and kissed at the kitchen table, Isaac fed the dragon his first taste of bacon. Which was sweet, warm and cough inducing.

"What was that?" said Isaac's mother.

"What was what?" said Isaac.

"That cough just now. I know it wasn't you. And it certainly wasn't me or you father."

The little dragon panicked and nestled its head on Isaac's shoulder. He tried to comfort the frightened dragon by carefully patting it on its back.

"Are you alright, Isaac?" Said his mom. "What's wrong with your shoulder?"

"Nothing, Mom. I was just singing to myself and felt like tapping along, is all."

"You're as loony as your dad, you know. But it does keep things interesting around here. What song was it? Why don't you share it with us?"

"It's just a made up one, Mom. Not very interesting."

"Well, we'd be interested, Isaac. Because we have a special interest in you. And, besides, you're a fascinating young man."

"Your mom's right, Isaac. And remember, you're stuck with us for quite  a few more years so you'd better learn that, no matter how much you may protest, we will always demand that you keep us entertained. Because as you know, your mother and I have no life outside of this house. We rely on you to keep us amused. Me? I only wanted a dog. But your mother insisted that nothing but a brilliant and adorable boy would do. And she was right. The dog was out and you were in. And you know what? In the past four years we’ve grown quite fond of you. But I don't believe we've ever been properly introduced. May I take this moment to say that we are pleased to have you with us, Isaac. My name is Dad and this lovely lady to my left is called. . . hmm. I'm sorry, what was your name again?"

"Mom. You can call me Mom."

"Right. Mom it is. Now, about that song, young Isaac."

Now it was Isaac's turn to panic. He hadn't any song in his head at all. And, even though he knew quite a few songs, he couldn't remember any. So he decided to make one up.

"It's a song called, uh, Bacon Bits.”

”What a coincidence,” said his dad. ”Sounds delicious.”

“Go on then,” said his mom. “Let’s hear it.”

“Okay, um.

“Bacon bits are scur - umptious
They roll on my tongue
They’re sweet and delicious
Like a song that gets sung

I eat them with scrambled
I eat them with alone
I put ‘em on oatmeal
Or a double-scoop cone”

When Isaac finished his song, there was a tremendous round of applause from the studio audience.

“Bravo! Bravo!” shouted one fork-waving gentleman.

“Bellissimo! Bellissimo!” shouted a swooning lady at the foot of the stage. “Encore! Encore!”

Isaac could only blush and put his hands over his ears. Sometimes his parents were just too embarrassing.