Arthur and the Toothpaste Door

Arthur was squeezing the toothpaste onto his brush. A long white worm came out, and he laughed.

"Time for teeth," he said. "Then bed."

Arthur wanted clean teeth. Tonight he wanted them extra clean, because tomorrow was his first day at the big school. He wanted to smile at everyone.

But the bathroom door would not open.

It only opened from the other side. That was just how the door worked in Arthur's house. Everyone knew it. Someone had to push from the hall.

"Mum!" called Arthur. "I'm in here!"

No answer. Mum was down in the kitchen, singing along to the radio and washing a very big pot.

Arthur knocked. Knock, knock, knock. The singing went on.

He tried shouting. "Mum! Mum! Mum!" The water splashed on and on.

So Arthur sat on the little stool and thought. His toothbrush was waiting. Something white and minty was waiting on it.

Then he noticed the pipes. They hummed whenever Mum ran the tap downstairs. The tap in the bathroom hummed back.

"Aha," whispered Arthur.

He turned his own tap on, and off. On, and off. Each time, the pipes went thunk in the wall.

Down in the kitchen, Mum stopped singing.

Arthur turned it on again. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

"What is that noise?" said Mum. Her slippers came up the stairs, slap, slap, slap. The door swung open.

"Arthur! Were you stuck?"

"Yes," said Arthur. "But I used the pipes."

Mum laughed. "Clever boy. Now, teeth."

Arthur brushed the front ones, round and round. He brushed the back ones, up and down. He brushed his tongue, which tasted like a mint.

Then he smiled at the mirror, wide as a slice of melon.

The tap dripped once. Mum switched off the light, and the white teeth glowed softly in the dark.