The bathroom mirror’s tale

The bathroom mirror

Matilda lay in the bath in the doll house and soaked herself in the warm water. It was her favourite thing to do before bed. Every night, before she stepped into the bath, she would look in the mirror over the basin and said, “Mirror, mirror, round and bright, who’s the nicest girl tonight?”

And the mirror always showed her her own reflection and said, “Why you, of course. No one is as nice as you.”

But tonight, something bad had happened, and Matilda was not feeling happy as she lay in the bath.

She’d asked the mirror the same question: “Mirror, mirror, round and bright, who’s the nicest girl tonight?” But the mirror had shown her a person with a scowl on her face and black sticky-out hair, looking very angry and fed up. The mirror would only say, “Well, it’s not you, so it must be someone else.”

So Matilda lay in her bath and fumed. Then she slowly climbed out and put on her dressing gown. She opened the bathroom door and peeped out. She could hear her mum downstairs watching the television. Her dad was rattling dishes in the kitchen and her brother was making whizzy, zooming noises on his games console in the bedroom next door.

The only other person in the doll house was a little girl in the spare bedroom. Her cousin.

Matilda glanced at the spare room door and scowled again. Her cousin had come to stay for three days and Matilda was NOT PLEASED. Her cousin had long wavy blond hair and everyone made a great fuss of her. Matilda hated her the minute she walked through the door with her little basket of toys. She hoped her horrid cousin would have nightmares and go home!

Suddenly, Matilda heard something. She crept over to the spare room door and listened. Her cousin was crying! Not just crying, but sobbing. Why would anyone sob if they had long wavy beautiful hair? Not black sticky-up hair like her own?

She pushed open the door and went in. Her cousin was curled up on the bed. Her toy basket was still packed with her toys. And her lovely hair covered her face as she cried.

“What’s wrong?” Matilda asked. “Don’t you want to play with your toys? Can’t you sleep?” She wasn’t feeling very kind and she didn’t really want to hear the answer, but the sobbing was making her feel bad, so she wanted it to stop.

Her cousin looked up. “My mum’s in hospital having a baby. I miss her. She always reads to me at night.”

Matilda suddenly thought of her own mum downstairs watching television. She would be coming up soon to read Matilda a story. She would hate it if her mum didn’t come.

“Would you like me to tell you a story?” she said. “It won’t be as good as your mum’s, but I could try.”

Her cousin nodded, and Matilda told her the best story she could think of. It was all about a mummy who brought home a funny little baby boy as a present for his sister.

Then she pulled the bedclothes round her cousin, kissed her good night and crept back to the bathroom to clean her teeth.

She asked the mirror again: “Mirror, mirror, round and bright, who’s the nicest girl tonight?”

The face that looked back at her was clean and shining, smiley and kind. The black sticky-up hair even looked less horrid.

“Why you are, of course,” said the mirror immediately. “No one is as nice as you. Sleep tight!”

The moral of this tale is that when you look in a mirror, you sometimes see what you are really like inside!

The sand tray’s tale

Sand Tray

Two alligators were exploring the sand pit late at night. The sand tray was quite happy about this. All the playroom toys liked traipsing round him, pushing holes, digging caves, climbing mountains and exploding volcanos.

At night, the toys were usually all in bed and the sand tray was able to have a rest and straighten himself out. But Jake and Jody had forgotten to put the alligators to bed. And the alligators were looking for some fun!

Big Alligator said to Little Alligator, “Let’s climb up this slope and see what’s over the back edge. We never get to go there.”

Little Alligator nodded his head happily. His sharp white teeth glowed in the silvery light of the moon as it shone through the windows of the playroom.

Sand Tray thought to himself, “Oh dear, they’re up to mischief!” But he said nothing. He knew they would do what they wanted, even if he warned them not to.

Big Alligator led the way, and both of them scrambled up the steep sandy slope. They kept slipping back because the sand kept moving. But after a lot of effort they stood right at the top and peered over the back of the sand tray to see what they could see far below. Their tales flipped and flapped behind them.

“It’s very dark,” said Little Alligator nervously. “The moon doesn’t shine down there.”

“You’re just scared,” said Big Alligator. “You’ve spent too long in the river. It’s time to be brave.”

“Well, you go first,” said Little Alligator, “and I’ll follow you.”

Sand Tray chuckled to himself as he listened to them.

Suddenly the silence of the playroom was broken by a loud YELL.

Little Alligator shook with fear. Big Alligator had just slipped right over the edge and fallen down into whatever was down below in the dark.

Sand Tray was not at all surprised when Little Alligator called out in a frightened voice, “Sand Tray, Sand Tray, you’ve got to come and help. There’s been an accident.”

Sand Tray said, “I don’t have to do anything. You were both going where you should not be going. If you were so brave before, why are you so frightened now? Doesn’t Big Alligator like huge fierce dragons?”

“Dragons?!” squeaked Little Alligator? “Dragons eat alligators for supper!”

“So they do, sometimes! But that dark ravine is where Dragon goes hunting every night, and as he’s hungry, he’ll find a nice juicy alligator really delicious.”

Little Alligator was now crying big tears all down his green snout. They ran onto his sharp white teeth and dripped onto the sand in the tray.

“Please help,” he whimpered. “We were only wanting some fun.”

Sand Tray had had his own fun by now. He knew there wasn’t really any dragon down there. The dragon always hunted on the high ground. But he had wanted to teach the naughty alligators a lesson they wouldn’t forget.

“White Owl!” he called out. “White Owl! Are you awake yet?”

White Owl came whizzing out of the darkness and landed in the sand tray in a shower of sand. “W-whoooo needs me?” he twit-twooed.

“Me… or rather Big Alligator does,” said Sand Tray. “He’s down in the ravine where he fell. Can you hook him out with your large claws, please?”

“Certainly, I will,” said Owl. “We wouldn’t want him to get eaten, now would we?” And he winked with his large black eyelid.

Then Owl flew over the edge and brought Big Alligator back into the sand tray. Big Alligator looked very sorry for himself and both alligators settled down very quietly in a corner of the sand tray and fell fast asleep.

“They’re not bad animals, really, are they?” said Owl, kindly, to Sand Tray. “Sleep well,” he twit-twoo-ed, as he flew off to his branch to watch and wait till morning.

The moral of this tale is that you should be kind and help even if people have caused their own problem!

The pink chalk’s tale

Pink Chalk

Everything was quiet in the playroom. Mark and Kaylee were supposed to be tidying up the toys ready for bed. But Pink Chalk knew they were not!

That was because Pink Chalk was not in the chalk basket. He was in Mark’s hand, and he was drawing pink lines on Kaylee’s face.

Mark pressed the chalk on her cheeks and said, “I’m making you look like a cat. A big scary wild cat. These are your long spiky whiskers that will scratch any giraffe who tries to eat you!”

Kaylee kept her face straight. “And when you’re finished,” she said, “I shall make your face look like a giraffe. And you can try to catch me.”

Mark looked excited, even though he should have been putting the chalks away. Pink Chalk was excited too, because this was much better than drawing pink flowers on the small blackboard in the corner. That was squeaky and boring. This was brilliant. He didn’t feel a bit like going to sleep.

Mark added some green chalk on Kaylee’s forehead and then let Kaylee colour his own nose with black chalk. She put giraffe blotches in yellow and brown on his cheeks, and some long pretend eyelashes in bright blue above his eyes. Then she put the chalks on the floor and said, “Done! Let’s get wild!”

Pink Chalk lay on the carpet and watched in amazement as Mark snarled and jumped at Kaylee. Kaylee bounced out of Mark’s way every time he sprang at her. They made so much noise that Pink Chalk was frightened someone would come and stop them having fun.

Just then, Monkey flopped off the shelf behind them and shouted, “Stop! I’ve got an idea.”

Mark and Kaylee turned round. Mark said, “We don’t want puppets playing with us. We’re real jungle animals.”

Pink Chalk thought that was a horrid thing to say. But Monkey just said, “You’ll like this idea. Let’s open a safari park. The puppets can sit around on hills and in fields, and you two can be the ones that all the visitors come to see.”

Kaylee looked at Mark, and Mark looked at Kaylee. Pink Chalk thought they were speaking to each other without saying anything. A bit like the real animals!

“Good idea,” said Mark. “But we’ll need a notice telling people how much it costs to come in and watch us.”

“Well I can’t write. I’m just a puppet,” said Monkey. “And you two can’t, because you’re a giraffe and a wild cat. So we’ll have to do without a notice.”

But Pink Chalk knew exactly how to solve the problem. He looked over at the magician, lying quietly on his tray, trying to get to sleep. “Psst!” he said.

The magician opened one eye and glared at Pink Chalk.

Pink Chalk said, “Can you help me speak to Mark and Kaylee? I won’t take long. I know you’re tired.”

The magician sighed, but touched his magic staff so that Mark would be able to hear Pink Chalk.

“Mark!” called Pink Chalk. “Shall I write you a notice on the blackboard?”

Mark picked up Pink Chalk. “You’re brilliant,” he said.

Suddenly, writing on the blackboard was no longer just a squeaky and boring job. Pink Chalk made beautiful letters and coloured them in with twirls and swirls until he’d made the most wonderful notice in the whole world. Mark and Kaylee loved it.

And they put Pink Chalk carefully back into the duck-shaped basket, where he fell asleep dreaming of safari parks and wild cats with pink whiskers.

The moral of this tale is that boring tasks can be very interesting if they’re done to help someone else.

The paper plate’s tale

Paper Plate

The paper plate was desperate for some excitement. Marc and Jodi often put something on her, such as sand or cut-up coloured paper or glitter or even lumps of play-doh when they were making cakes and biscuits and sprouts and beef burgers. Right now she was sitting under a pile of lolly sticks and their colours were so bright she felt invisible.

“I do wish I could do something really nice,” she sighed. “Like become a ski slope or an ice rink or a moon or… just something exciting.”

A voice spoke from nearby. “You are something. You’re a boring old paper plate. What do you expect? Plates have stuff dumped on them. That’s life.”

Paper plate was upset. She knew that, but wanted more. She sat sadly and watched as Marc and Jodi folded paper aeroplanes. She even tried to be interested in whose plane went furthest and fastest as they threw them down the playroom.

Marc suddenly said, “Hey! I’m going to make a Stealth Invader. It’ll beat your plane any day!”

And Paper Plate found herself lifted out from under the lolly sticks and held up in front of Marc’s eyes. She couldn’t believe what she had heard. A Stealth Invader? From a boring old white paper plate like she was?

But it happened! Marc first of all painted her black and then held her up to dry in the breeze from the window. “This will be the best plane ever,” he said, gazing at her. If she hadn’t been black all over, Paper Plate would have gone red with embarrassment.

Then Marc started folding her in strange ways, until there she sat – a perfect Stealth Invader.

“That’s good at flying against the enemy,” said Jodi. She’d been painting patterns on the wings of her own paper plane. “But will it go faster than mine?”

“Start the contest!” said Marc. “And we’ll see!”

They stood side by side at one end of the playroom and counted: 3…2…1… Paper Plate was shivering with excitement. She didn’t want to let Marc down.

GO!!!!

She flew into space so fast that she could feel the breeze rushing past her. It was exhilarating, fantastic, brilliant! She was really happy.

And as she flew past Jodi’s plane, she also felt a bit sorry for the little paper jet. “It’s only a game,” she called back. “Taking part is what matters.”

But just as she was about to reach the other end of the room, she suddenly felt ill and crumpled up and fell to the floor.

“Oh no!” shouted Marc.

“Oh yes!” shouted Jodi. “Mine’s the winner! The best plane.”

Paper Plate lay on the floor in agony – but there was a huge grin on her face. She looked over at Jodi’s paper plane and said, “Well done.”

“It’s only a game,” said Jodi’s plane kindly.

“I know, I know. And I had such fun. I wanted some excitement and I got it. But I think I’ll just be a boring old paper plate for a while. My sides are killing me.”

“And I’m ready for a sleep,” said Jodi’s plane. “See you in the morning!”

The only sound as Paper Plate fell asleep beside Jodi’s plane was the rattling of the lolly sticks as they laughed and laughed at her. But she didn’t mind. She was the one going to have even more fun in her dreams. Let them laugh if they wanted.

The moral of this Tale is that taking part is the best way of having fun even if you don’t win.

The dog’s tale

Dog

Natalie was alone in the playroom after tea. The dog thought she looked sad. She just sat on the mat, and didn’t play with any of the toys. Dog wanted to talk to her, but to talk to the children, he needed the magician’s help.

“Psst! Magician! Will you help me talk to Natalie?”

“Why should I help you?” snarled the musician.

Dog was shocked. He had never heard the magician talk like this before. Whatever was wrong with him?

He moved over to the tray where the magician lived with the unicorns, monsters, skeletons and fairies, and flopped carefully down beside him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked gently.

“What do you care?” said the magician. “You sit there all day on your soft cushion getting lots of cuddles, while I have to sit in this cold tray, and no one even notices when my magic is running out.”

Dog was surprised. He stretched out a floppy paw and touched the magician on the shoulder. “I didn’t know magic could run out,” he said. “But I do know everyone loves you.”

“I know, I know. It’s just that my magic is running low and no one has taken me to get it filled up.”

Dog didn’t know where the magician went to fill up his magic, and he wanted to help.

But now he had two problems: Natalie needed cheering up, but to speak to her he needed the magican’s magic. And the magician needed to fill up his magic, and to help him do that, Dog would have to leave Natalie! Being kind was sometimes harder than chewing a bone.

“OK,” he said to the magician, after a pause. “First things first. What do I have to do to help you?”

“Take me to the basket of stones,” the magician said, sounding much less grumpy now, “and touch the end of my staff to the shiny, silver stone. Then shake the stone three times.”

Dog was astonished at being asked to do such a peculiar thing. But he picked up the magician in his soft silky paws and bounded over to the basket of stones. He easily spotted the right stone because it was silver and shone like a mirror. It looked very special. But what would happen when he shook it?

“Go on! Hurry!” the magician begged. “I’m getting very weak.”

So Dog touched the magician’s long staff to the side of the shiny stone, and shook the stone three times. It rang out like a fairy bell. Ting! Ting! Ting!

“Wow!” he said. “That was brilliant.”

“Yes, it was,” said a voice behind him. And there was Natalie smiling happily and talking to him. She had understood what he said! The magician must have used his magic straight away to let Natalie understand him!

“Are you OK now?” Dog asked Natalie. “You were looking so sad I was going to come and cheer you up.”

“I felt better straight away when the silver stone chimed. I think it’s magical! It chased away the sadness and now I feel happy again.”

Dog looked at the magician, who simply winked and tweaked his long white beard.

So Dog sat and talked to Natalie till bedtime.

“Time up!” said the magician. “I don’t want to get weak again.”

“Thank you,” said Dog, knowing that Natalie could no longer hear him. “Next time you need to refill your magic, just let me know. That’s what friends are for. Sleep tight!”

The moral of this tale is that when you make someone happy, they are able to make others happy.