Esther Moonstomp Books

STORY: A New Bed For Lauren

Boing, boing, boing! It was six o’ clock in the morning and Lauren was bouncing up and down in her cot.

Lauren loved her cot. It was a bright place to be when the curtains were pulled back and the sun shone through onto the daffodil-yellow blankets and all her cuddly toys. And it was a soft place to be when it was nap time and a snuggly place in the evening when Mummy cuddled up to Lauren and read her a bedtime story.

Then Lauren would close her eyes and slowly drift off to sleep until six in the morning when her cot was a great place to be for bouncing in!

“Good morning, Lauren,” Mummy said, yawning and wiping the sleep from her eyes. “You’re getting too big for bouncing in your cot.”

Lauren stopped bouncing and stared at Mummy. She shook her head. “Not too big.”

“We’ll have to go shopping for a big girl’s bed,” Mummy said, smiling.

“No. I love my cot,” Lauren said, wrapping her arms around the cot and hugging it tight.

“We’ll see,” Mummy said and ruffled Lauren’s hair.

Later that day, Mummy and Daddy took Lauren around all the furniture shops. There were all sorts of beds – small beds just right for a little girl, beds with ladders, beds with slides and beds which sprung into sofas at the flick of a switch.

“You can have some nice new bedcovers, too,” Daddy said, pointing to rows and rows of colourful covers.

Lauren sighed. There were pretty pinks, rosy reds and beautiful blues but none quite like her sunny blankets at home. She didn’t think her teddies would like new covers either.

“Why don’t you try lying down on one of the beds, Lauren?” Mummy said, taking Lauren over to a particularly comfy looking bed.

Lauren clambered onto the bed and turned first one way, then the other. She led on her back and she led on her tummy.

“No, not comfy,” she said, her eyes filling with tears. “Not like my cot.”

Mummy sat down on the bed next to Lauren and stroked her hair gently. “I loved my cot too, Lauren. Grandma says I didn’t want a bed either, just like you.”

Lauren blinked her tears away. She frowned. But Mummy didn’t sleep in a cot anymore. She slept in a bed.

“Grandma told me that now I was a big girl, we were going to make my room into a very special room,” Mummy continued, “my cot would stay just where it was but I’d have a new bed, too.”

Lauren started to smile.

“Shall we make your room into a special room, too?” Mummy asked.

…

Lauren burst through the door of her bedroom and squealed excitedly. Mummy and Daddy followed closely behind.

“Your new bed will fit perfectly by the chest of drawers and we’ll leave your cot just where it is,” Mummy said, patting her rather large stomach. “This little one is going to love your cot, just as much as her older sister, isn’t she, Lauren?”

Lauren grinned. Just like her mummy when she was little, Lauren was going to have a new bed, a new little sister and she could still see her cot every day. She wouldn’t be able to sleep in it anymore once her sister was born but perhaps that wouldn’t be so bad. She would always love her cot but she was going to a big girl just like her mummy.

Besides, her new bed had a beautiful sunshine yellow quilt, was lovely and squishy to lie on and almost as snugly as her cot. But best of all, it was even bouncier. Not that her mummy and daddy had been too pleased when she’d started bouncing up and down on it in the shop. Lauren just couldn’t understand why.

***

STORY: Just Like Grandpa!

Tom loved spending Saturdays with his Grandpa Joe. Grandpa always taught him something new. This Saturday Grandpa was helping Tom to learn to ride his brand new, shiny blue bicycle. It was a lot bigger than his last one.

“Do you think I’ll go even faster on this bicycle, Grandpa?” Tom asked excitedly.

“By the end of the day you’ll be zooming along the lane, just you wait and see,” Grandpa said smiling.

“Come on, Grandpa. On your marks, get set…Go!”

Grandpa held Tom carefully as Tom’s legs peddled faster and faster. Grandpa slowly let go.

“No, Grandpa. I’m going to fall!” Tom cried.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Grandpa said as Tom stopped suddenly.

Tom looked up into his Grandpa’s kind, brown eyes. Tom’s lip quivered and he started to cry.  

“I’m no good, Grandpa. I can’t do it.”

Tom tried to smile as Grandpa wiped his tears away.

“Yes, you can. Go a little slower this time, Tom. It’ll come. That was only your first go. Let’s try again.”

Once more, Grandpa held Tom as the little legs pumped round and round, very slowly at first and then a little faster.

“Don’t let go, Grandpa. I’m not ready. Not just yet,” Tom said.

“Don’t worry. I’m here. Do you remember when I taught you how to whistle?” Grandpa said and broke into a merry tune.

Tom joined in and they both laughed when their whistling came to an end.

“It took you a little while to get the hang of it, didn’t it?” Grandpa said.

Tom giggled. “I kept making funny ‘thussshhh’ sounds, didn’t I?”

 “You did,” Grandpa said, giggling too. “I was just the same. My grandpa didn’t think I would ever learn to whistle. But I did. Just like you did, Tom.”

“Did he teach you to hoot like an owl too, Grandpa?”

“Twit twoo!” Grandpa called out. “He did. I sounded like a very poorly owl to begin with but I got the hang of it in the end.”

Tom chortled, “Just like me. Twit twoo!”

“My Grandpa used to take me fishing, too. I wasn’t very good at that at first. I think all I caught was an old boot. We could go fishing one Saturday, Tom. Would you like that?”

“Yes, please! I think I’ll catch an old boot, just like you.”

 “We’re very alike, Tom, aren’t we?” Grandpa asked.

“Does that mean it took you a long time to learn to ride your bicycle, too?”

“No, Tom. That was one thing it didn’t take me long to learn at all.”

“So I’m not like you, then?” Tom asked sadly, his shoulders sagging.

Grandpa shouted after him, “Oh, but you are, Tom. You’re riding your bike now, all on your own. I let go a little while ago.”

For a moment, Tom wobbled from side to side. His lip started to tremble. Then his face broke into a big grin.

“I can ride my bike! I can do it. Just like my grandpa!”  

***

STORY: Clarissa’s Cake

It was Clarissa’s birthday. Clarissa wanted a birthday cake. And not just any birthday cake.

“I want a big birthday cake,” Clarissa said. “The biggest birthday cake in the world.”

Clarissa and her Mummy walked round and round the cake shop in search of the best big birthday cake.

“What about this one?” Clarissa’s Mummy said.

Clarissa looked at the cake. It was big, with pink and purple icing dripping down over a soft sponge.

“No, I want a bigger cake,” Clarissa said, sulking.

Clarissa’s Mummy sighed. “What about this one?” she said, pointing to a bigger cake.

The cake was yellow, with yummy sugary sweets on top.

“No, I want a much bigger cake,” Clarissa said, stamping her feet.

Clarissa’s Mummy frowned. “What about this one?” she said, finding a much bigger cake.

The cake was a terrific triangle shape in magnificent mauve with marshmallows clinging to the sides.

“No, I want an even bigger cake,” Clarissa said, sucking her thumb and twiddling her hair.

Clarissa’s Mummy walked to the back of the cake shop. Clarissa’s Mummy didn’t sigh. Clarissa’s Mummy didn’t frown. For Clarissa’s Mummy had found an even bigger cake.

“What about this one?” she said, pointing to the biggest cake in the world.

Clarissa and her Mummy looked up and up and up. They looked up as far as they could see and still the cake went up and up.

“Yes, I want that cake,” Clarissa said, smiling and jumping up and down.

The cake seemed to shimmer and change colour.

“Yummy,” Clarissa said, “look, it’s changed into a chocolate cake now.”

The shopkeeper winked at Clarissa’s Mummy. And Clarissa’s Mummy winked back.

“Look, now it’s an orange cake. It’s changed again. It’s a lemon cake now,” Clarissa said, squirming with excitement.

“Would you like to try some?” the shopkeeper asked.

“Yes, I want some now,” Clarissa said, snatching a huge handful of cake.

Clarissa tipped her head back and opened her mouth very, very wide. Then she gulped the cake down in one go.

“Ugh!” Clarissa said, screwing up her face, “it’s horrible. It tastes like grass. No, it tastes like mud. No, now it tastes like worms.”

Clarissa chomped and chewed. But the more she chomped and chewed the more horrible the flavours became.

“Perhaps you would prefer this cake?” the shopkeeper said.

Clarissa looked at the cake in the shopkeeper’s hands. It was small and round and covered in rainbow flowers.

Clarissa nodded. It was perfect.

“Thank you very much,” Clarissa said.

As she said the words, the biggest cake in the world disappeared and so did the terrible taste in Clarissa’s mouth.

Clarissa clutched her birthday cake in one hand and her Mummy’s hand in the other. And together they went home. 

***

STORY: Tom’s New Sisters

Tom had a new sister. Well, he had two new sisters in fact. They were twins.

But Tom’s sisters didn’t have any names. Mum and Dad couldn’t decide what to call them.

Tom looked at one sister cuddled up in Mum’s arms. Then he looked at his other sister, snuggled up with Dad.

“I like Tabitha and Tania,” Dad said.

Mum shook her head. Tom was glad. He didn’t like the names Tabitha and Tania.

“How about Daisy and Delia?” Dad said.

Mum shook her head and wrinkled her nose. Phew! Tom thought. Neither sister looked like a Daisy or a Delia.

“What do you think, Tom?” Dad said.

Tom sighed. He wanted to help Mum and Dad, but he had something very important to tell them, but he couldn’t always get his words out right. He looked at his sisters, then at Mum and outside towards his guinea pigs. Then he looked back at Mum.

“Pig,” Tom said, “Pop, Mum.”

Mum frowned and opened her mouth very, very wide in surprise.

“Pig? Pop?” Mum said. “We can’t call your sisters Pig and Pop.”

“No, Mum,” Tom laughed.

“I know what Tom’s trying to say,” Dad cried, “we’ll call the babies Pippa and Poppy.”

“No, Dad,” Tom giggled.

He looked at his sisters again, then at Mum and outside to his guinea pigs once more. Smiling, he turned back to look at Mum.

“Pig,” Tom said, “Pop, Mum.”

“Mmmm,” Mum said, “Pig and Pop? What names sound like Pig and Pop?”

 “Peggy and Paula?” Dad said, screwing up his face as he thought very hard. “Penny and Persephone?”

“No, Dad,” Tom chuckled.

He pointed to his sisters, then at Mum and outside to his guinea pigs. Then he pointed at Mum again.

“Pig,” Tom said, “Pop, Mum.”

“Is it something about the guinea pigs, Tom?” Mum asked.

Tom nodded and grinned.

“That’s it!” Dad cried, “I know what Tom means. One of the guinea pigs is having babies and her tummy looks like it’s going to pop just like Mum’s did before your sisters were born. That’s it, isn’t it, Tom?”

Tom nodded.

“Pig,” Tom said, “Pop, Mum.”

Mum laughed.

Then Mum stopped laughing. “Oh dear. Now we’ll have to think of names for your baby sisters and for some baby guinea pigs. That might be a problem,” Mum said.

Tom was puzzled. So was Dad by the look on his face.

“Well, we’re not very good at coming up with names we like, are we?” Mum laughed.

Tom and Dad laughed, too.

But, by the time the two baby guinea pigs were born, Mum, Dad and Tom had all agreed on the names Sophie and Emily for the twins and naming the guinea pigs was very easy in the end.  Their names were, of course, Pig and Pop.