CHAPTER 3

Whoomph…….. "FRODO!!!!!!"

Perhaps not quite the reaction Frodo was aiming for.  He had never seen Bilbo angry before.  He did look rather funny though and Frodo was trying very hard not to laugh.

His Uncle was standing in the doorway, a rotund apparition: white from top to toe, with a little pyramid of flour perched atop his head.  The air was misted with the fine dust and everything in the room would soon be covered.  At the moment it was like looking at the world through a sea fret but it didn't feel like mist when you breathed it in.  Bilbo managed to dislodge his flour hat with a series of violent sneezes, followed by bought of dry coughing.  As the fine particles drifted across the room they set Frodo to coughing and sneezing too and in the end the two had to escape to the hallway in order to draw breath.

Once they were both back in control Bilbo glared at his nephew.  Frodo was rapidly coming to the conclusion that he may have been in less trouble if he had just confessed to not being able to cook.

"Frodo, Son of Drogo.  Just what were you trying to do?" shouted Bilbo.  Even under the layer of white flour Frodo could see that his face was almost purple.

"It was a joke, Uncle Bilbo.  It was funny when Fatty and I did it a few years ago at Brandy Hall."  For some reason that sounded very lame.

Frodo found himself staring at a large white finger wagging up and down just beyond the tip of his nose.  "It may have been accepted as funny from a fifteen year old but you are now a tweenager, young sir.  I would expect you to display a little more common sense."

The young hobbit hung his head.  This had not gone the way he had hoped and the only good thing that had come of it was that there was now no chance of baking.

"I'm sorry Uncle.  I'll go and clean it all up, shall I?"

"I should think you will go and clean it up.  Every last grain, mind you.  You will find cleaning materials in the cupboard next to the pantry."

"Yes Uncle."

"I am going to change and have a bath.  You will find me in the study when you have finished.  Report to me when you're done and I will then set your punishment."

It took Frodo the whole afternoon to clean the kitchen to Bilbo's satisfaction.  It was hard work for as soon as he had wiped down a surface more dust settled.   Eventually he reported to his Uncle and Bilbo came to inspect the work.  The older hobbit was quite pleased to see that Frodo could apply himself diligently to a task when he tried,  and by now he was beginning to see the funny side.  He dare not show it in front of Frodo, however.

"You have done a very creditable job of cleaning up but you know that I must punish you for this, do you not?"

"Yes Uncle."  Frodo could not bring himself to look at Bilbo's face.

"Your punishment will be to cook breakfast, first breakfast, mind you, for one week."

Frodo's heart sank and he could feel the tears stinging his eyes already.  Unused to the lightening mood changes of young people, Bilbo grew confused when he saw Frodo's reaction.  He felt sure he had not over done the punishment. 

"What's the matter, lad.  Surely it's not that bad a punishment to get up a couple of hours earlier and fry some bacon and eggs."  Tears did flow then and Bilbo couldn't stand it.  He lifted the little one's chin.  "What is it?"

Frodo's voice was barely more than a whisper.  "I can't cook."

Suddenly the reason for the prank became clear.  "Why didn't you say so, Frodo, my lad?  We can soon remedy that."  In an attempt to put things right, he added, "I know.  Instead of you cooking breakfast, your punishment will be to help me prepare every meal for a week.  That way you will learn how to cook as you go."  Bilbo was rewarded with a broad smile of relief.

"Yes, please, Uncle Bilbo."

"And your first lesson is to stop calling me Uncle.  Just plain old Bilbo will do."

"Yes Un……..Bilbo."

"Good.  Then let's start tea.  I am quite ravenous."

By the time he went to bed that evening Frodo was beginning to feel a little better about living the life of a gentlehobbit.  To the list of things not to do he would have to add, practical jokes, but on the list of things to learn he could cross off cooking.  Well, perhaps that was a little premature, but soon.