The Ace of Clubs’ tale

Ace of Clubs

The Ace of Clubs was in a pile with the other playing cards. Kaylee had been doing magic tricks. She wasn’t very good at it and Ace of Clubs laughed out loud as he remembered Kaylee’s bungled attempts to make him appear out of the rest of the pack.

“I’m a Club, CLUB, CLUB,” he said to the others. “No one plays magic games with me. I’m strong. I am a weapon. I club dragons and monsters to death.”

“That’s not very nice,” said Kaylee coming back. “You could be the sort of club where people go to make friends or play football.”

“I don’t need friends,” Ace of Clubs said rudely. “Friends are for wimps like Diamonds and Spades and Hearts.” He snorted loudly at the other Aces in the pack and slid away from them.

Kaylee picked him up and put him on the floor behind the table. “I shalln’t play with you any more,” she said. “You’re too rough and rude.”

The Ace of Clubs was furious. But he had to sit there and listen as Kaylee played and talked with the other playing cards.

“I like Diamonds,” she said, picking up the Ace of Diamonds. “You make beautiful bracelets. And I like Spades,” she added. “I can dig in the garden with you. You’re really useful.”

She looked at the Ace of Hearts. “You,” she said, “are super important. I draw a heart every time I write messages to my best friends.”

Ace of Clubs snorted again as he sat alone behind the table leg. Best friends! Love! What did Kaylee know about real life?

Suddenly, he found himself surrounded by animals. Big, strong, fierce, frightening animals.

“Where did you come from?” he gasped.

“The magician sent us to teach you a lesson,” said the lion. “If you’re such a great Club, fight me!”

“If you’re such a heavy Club, squash me flat!” said a quieter voice. Ace of Clubs looked down and saw a huge spider, waving eight hairy legs at him.

“If you’re such a strong club, let me chew you,” said a large grey shark. “Then we’ll see how strong you really are.”

Ace of Clubs suddenly felt very weak, very scared and very silly. He wasn’t any of those things he’d boasted about. He  was just a thin, small piece of card used for card tricks and playing SNAP.

“It was only a joke,” he said in a small voice. “I’d really rather be a club where people make friends. Er… would you be my friends?”

Just then, Ace of Clubs heard a shout from Kaylee – and woke up! He looked around. There were no animals near him. Just a table leg blocking his view of Kaylee and her new card trick.

He breathed a sigh of relief. I was only dreaming, he said to himself.

A voice came from the toy tray. “Let that be a lesson to you,” he heard the magician say. “Or I’ll make it happen for real.”

When Kaylee gathered up the cards and put them in their box, Ace of Clubs was so well-behaved that he agreed to be shoved into the box without saying anything. Kaylee looked surprised. But Ace of Clubs was too tired to explain. As he fell asleep, he thought how glad he was to be a playing card and not a wooden club fighting monsters in the forest.

The moral of the Tale is that it s best to be proud of exactly who you are and not pretend to be something different.

The finger paint’s tale

Yellow Finger Paint

The yellow finger paint tub was sitting on the window ledge in the sun when someone picked her up and dumped her on the table. “Ooh,” she said. “I’m going to have fun today. Natalie and Jake must be going to make a picture.”

Yellow Finger Paint laughed out loud. She loved being messy and smarmy and slithery. She loved it best when the children made her look like clumps of golden daffodils or rays of a huge shining sun.

Then she heard Natalie speak.

“I feel sorry for the blue and red paints,” Natalie said to Jake. “They don’t show up as well on the black paper. Let’s mix them with the yellow and make something else.”

“Yes,” said Jake. “No daffodil colours today. No sun, no yellow caravans and no yellow monsters.”

Yellow Finger Paint was horrified. They were going to mix her with other colours just so they would look better. She trembled in her tub of slippy-sloopy yellow. She got so angry that she slopped over the side a bit as Jake pulled off her lid.

“That serves them right,” she muttered, as she landed in a dollop right in the middle of the black paper. “Now they’ll remember how lovely I am all by myself.”

But Natalie clapped her hands. “Wow, that’s exactly what we need. It’s given me a brilliant idea.”

Natalie pushed her fingers into the yellow blob. Yellow Finger Paint tried to squirm in and out of Natalie’s fingers to make the squelchy lines go all wrong.

But Jake grinned. “I’ve guessed what you’re making,” he said to Natalie. “I’ll help.”

Yellow Finger Paint was cross. She was trying to be naughty, and each time she tried, it seemed as if she did exactly what they wanted. So she thought hard and then decided to do nothing. See? She would NOT help them. She would NOT move unless they made her. She would sit right there and sulk!

But Natalie and Jake seemed very happy about that. They added some red finger paint and moved it in huge sweeping movements like tongues of flame. Jake shoved the yellow into the red as they went next to each other. “Look, it’s making orange as they mix!” he said.

Before long, the children had pushed and shoved all sorts of colours in long flames all over the black paper. Even Yellow Finger Paint had to admit it all felt beautiful. But because she was stuck on the paper, she didn’t know what Jake and Natalie were painting. And she really wanted to know!

Finally, Jake took up the blue and green finger paint tubs and put dobs of colour all over the top of the paper: red, green, blue and white. He didn’t mix them, and Yellow Finger Paint felt a bit cross again. But then Jake said, “We need a few finger marks of bright yellow here too. Then it will be finished.”

Yellow Finger Paint filled with pride as she was put here and there, one finger mark at a time, in amongst the red, green, blue and white dots at the top of the paper. “I knew they would want my bright yellow colour in the end,” she told herself.

Jake and Natalie put the lids back on the tubs of finger paint and stacked them back on the window ledge. The sun had gone in now and night was falling. Yellow Finger Paint felt sleepy. But just as she fell asleep, she heard Natalie say, “That’s the best bonfire picture we ever painted. And the yellow was the most important bit. She made the flames and fire perfect and the her sparks are flashing everywhere.”

The moral of this tale is that doing new things together can be as much fun as doing things on our own.

The yellow snake’s tale

Yellow Snake

Leona was playing with the long slippery green snake. She pushed its head among the cushions and pretended it was going underground to find some treasure. Then she crawled right into the cushions after it. Only her feet were left sticking out behind. Ben was cheering her on.

Leona looked like she was having fun, and Yellow Snake felt a bit left out. He didn’t really want to rummage in the cushions but he did want to have something to do.

He squirmed around on the hard blue stool where Ben had left him. “They always take the long green snake,” he said sadly. “It’s because I’m all bendy and yellow and not very long. I can’t stretch as far as Green Snake.”

A voice behind him said, “Well at least you’re not scary like Green Snake.”

Yellow Snake coiled himself up and poked his head round to see who’d spoken. He was astonished – the voice belonged to the huge hairy, scary monster who didn’t have a name.

“Are you saying you’re scared of Green Snake?” asked Yellow Snake in surprise. “Why, you’re a hundred times more frightening than he is!”

“Oh no I’m not,” the monster growled. “Everyone knows I’m a monster so they just laugh at me. I can’t scare anyone now. But the green snake is sometimes nice and sometimes spits poison at me. That’s really frightening.”

Yellow Snake felt very sorry for the monster with no name. It was bad enough being a monster. It was horrid having no name. But if a monster couldn’t scare people, that was very bad indeed.

“Shall we play together?” he asked the monster.

It was the monster’s turn to look surprised. “No one EVER asks me to play,” he said. “I don’t even know how to play proper games.”

“We don’t have to play proper games,” said Yellow Snake. “We just have to have fun being ourselves. You could try to catch me, and use your axe and pretend to chop me up!”

The monster gave a hairy, leering grin. “And you could escape every time I nearly catch you,” he said. Then he paused and looked worried. “What if I really catch you and am about to chop you up? I’m very good at catching things as small as you.”

Yellow Snake had a think. “Well, it’s only a game, so you’ll have to give a loud horrible chuckle just before you catch me. That will frighten me off. And I’ll slither away fast. I’m good at that!”

So Yellow Snake and the monster with no name played chasing and escaping all the time till Ben and Leona had stopped playing around in the cushions. They had so much fun slithering and chopping that they were quite surprised when Ben came over and said, “Time for bed, you two. Sorry we left you out. We’ll all play together tomorrow, so you won’t be bored.”

He put Yellow Snake and the monster with no name into the toy tray and left the room with Leona.

When everything in the playroom was quiet and dark, Yellow Snake coiled himself up ready to sleep and said to the monster, “I wasn’t bored! I was much happier slithering and escaping from you than having to burrow for treasure in a silly old cushion. What about you?”

But the monster with no name didn’t answer. He’d fallen fast asleep already!

The moral of this tale is that you are often much happier being yourself and doing what you’re good at.

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.