Wilson flinched but said nothing. His unratified Decoration has been a source of distress to him for years now, but I think he's starting to accept that his OBE may never be recognised by The Royal Family. Or anyone else, for that matter.
After a bit of snorting, he settled down to watch the molehill keeping completely still and silent — neither of which states come naturally to him.
While he stared intently at the heap of earth his eyelids became heavier and began to droop, his breathing grew slower, deeper... deeper, until he began to drift away…
Suddenly he awoke with a start and beheld: another molehill!
'What happened?' he asked.
'Well, the mole built another molehill — he's a busy little fellow!' Uncle Z chuckled.
'But you didn't wake me?' W demanded in a tone of disbelief.
'You were sleeping so soundly, I thought the rest would do you good,' the elderly bee (or wasp, or hornet, or whatever he is) replied.
Wilson stamped around the garden for a few minutes to ensure he was wide awake and fully alert, before returning to his long mole-watching vigil.
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