Because
I used to spend all night reading instead of sleeping as a result of the
Watership Down fiasco, I quickly read my way through my entire collection of
books, but I simply read them all again, and again, and again. Because of this, I have a startlingly good
recollection of many of my favourite stories of my childhood, and one of those
short stories that has stayed with me to this day is the story of the chocolate
kittens.
Basically,
there was this little girl who needed to get a present for her brother whose
birthday it was the next day. After
going shopping, she bought him a box of chocolate kittens. As a child, I often used to buy these kittens
myself; I think they were packaged slightly differently 20 years ago but they
looked something like this:
Anyway,
the little girl couldn’t sleep that night because she kept thinking about the
box of chocolate kittens in her room that she was about to give to her brother
the next day. Perhaps I felt a special
affinity with this because I, too, would stay up all night, and I, too, liked
chocolate of any form. After a while of
tossing and turning, the girl decided that her brother wouldn’t mind if she ate
‘only one’ of the kittens, so she did just that. A while later, she reasoned that, since she
had already opened them, she may as well eat another, since two is only one
more than one. As you can probably
imagine, she ends up eating the whole box.
The next morning, she admits to her brother what she did; she gets in a
huge amount of trouble, and both of them cry.
For
some reason, this story made me unimaginably angry for many years; perhaps it
was the fact that it ended sadly and there was nothing happy about it, but it
seemed like more than that. The story so
vividly took the reader through the girl’s reasoning process during the night
that you felt like you were there with her, and so in the morning where she has
to admit wrong, her guilt was also the reader’s guilt. The purpose of the story seemed to be to make
the reader feel bad about what the girl did, and thus, bad about themselves, or
about something bad that they had done
It
was only very recently that I decided to read the story again. I expected to feel a surge of guilt with
every page, but I didn’t feel that way at all.
In reality, it was a very basically written story without the emotional
journey that I had remembered. Also, at
the end, instead of everyone crying, the girl admitted her mistake, and the
parents, rather than being cross, were very proud of her for coming clean and
found it almost funny; they revealed that the chocolate kittens were unimportant,
as, in fact, they had bought her brother a REAL kitten for his birthday, and
the story ended with them all happily playing with their new pet.
It
says much about my mental state as a child that I seemed to completely
misunderstand the message of this story; it wasn’t about guilt at all, it was
about honesty, and forgiveness. It was
strange for me after agonising over the feelings of guilt that came from this
story for many years to realise that the feelings had not come from the story,
but must just have come from me, and something that I had done, and I only remembered
the story through this veneer of guilt.
What had I done? Perhaps I’ll never know. Fairly complex emotions for a 7-year-old!
I too remember this story as a child, infact my mother recoreded it on tape for me to listen to. I would love to read it again. I know it was in a book of stories, have you any idea which one?
ReplyDeleteMy mum recorded it for me too! Was it part of the “my naughty little sister” books? I’d love to find it!
DeleteI too remember this book, but can't remember what it was called. Does anybody know?
ReplyDeleteSame! I literally came here looking for the answer. I had it in a compilation that included a story called Bullawong (I can't find that either). The cover artwork included a girl and alphabet blocks.
ReplyDeleteI also loved this story and had the same book. Does anyone know the name?
ReplyDelete