“Now let me see,” he thought, as he took his last lick of the inside of the jar, “where was I going, Ah, yes, Eeyore.” He got up slowly. And then, suddenly, he remembered. He had eaten Eeyore’s present!
“Today I’m five. I was four last night going to sleep in Wardrobe, but when I wake up in Bed in the dark I’m changed to five, abracadabra. Before that I was three, then two, then one, then zero. ‘Was I minus numbers?‘”
“The family section ran a regular feature about kids on their birthdays, and my mother had called in some info. The last sentence read: ‘As a hobby, Leo Borlock collects porcupine neckties.‘”
When J.J.’s mother idly wishes for more time for her birthday, J.J. decides to find her some. But how can he find her time when he barely has enough time of his own to do the basics, like schoolwork—let alone to find out if the local rumors about his grandfather being a murderer are true?
“It all happened on Findus’ birthday. Findus had three birthdays a year, because it was more fun that way. And every birthday, Pettson made him a pile of pancakes.”
“This birthday Pettson went to the hen house to collect a basket of eggs. Then he sat on the bench outside the kitchen and polished them. Pettson was a tidy man and he wanted them all clean and shiny.”