Every Saturday, my father takes me to the shed at the bottom of the garden. It is not a normal shed. It does not contain rusty rakes or old paint. No. It contains the Whizzpopper 3000 .
Grumblegut crawls out from under the bed. He is holding a tiny suitcase. He shakes my father’s hand, nods politely at me, and walks out the door. my dad is fantastic roald dahl pdf
PING!
Most children, I suppose, have ordinary fathers. Fathers who wear grey suits and carry briefcases and smell of boiled potatoes and worry. But not me. No, no, no. My father is quite different. My father is FANTASTIC. Every Saturday, my father takes me to the