This is Ria. Welcome to Little Stories for Tiny People.
I'll cut to the chase.
The spiders who live in the uppermost corners of my tiny studio have been relentless lately.
They want a story that doesn't just have a spider in it.
They want a prominent spider.
They want a featured spider.
And they won't stop hounding me about it.
So this is it, okay?
This is my best effort.
After this, you better leave me alone.
Let's hear it. It's called Little Hedgehog and the Babysitter.
Take it away, Ty. Remember, there are no pictures.
You have to imagine the pictures in your mind.
You can imagine them however you want.
Okay, here we go! It was a cool night in the middle of fall and the forest was filled with animals tucked away in their nests and their warrens and their freehouses and their RVs and their...
wait, no no, just their nests and their warrens.
Oh, and their burrows.
Many of the forest animals slept peacefully.
Others slept fitfully, kept awake by snoring brothers or sleep talkers.
But some of the forest animals were not asleep at all.
Little Hedgehog and Bebe, her best friend of all time, were wide awake in Little Hedgehog's burrow.
Bebe, I can't believe Philomena is going to knock on the burrow door in just a few short hours.
We should review our lesson plan for the evening.
Okay! Bebe retrieved a notepad she'd tucked in a corner of Little Hedgehog's bookshelf and ran her paw along the text she'd written.
First we will teach Philomena about greeting friends and acquaintances.
Hello! Greetings! Little Hedgehog said, holding back a laugh.
That's my Bebe voice, Bebe.
I thought it was me talking.
The friends giggled.
At this point you may be wondering, who is this Philomena character and why does she need to be taught how to greet friends and acquaintances?
To answer that we'll have to go back in time three days.
Little Hedgehog and Bebe scampered home through the forest after a long night of school.
In science class they'd watched an intriguing documentary about the lives of pneumatic rhinoceros and they spent their walk home coming up with a song about it.
Ranging, roving, ranging, roving, rhinocerai, rhinocerai, rhinocerai.
I think our song might need work, agreed.
I love your song, remarked a tiny, unexpected voice in the dark.
I wish I could come up with a song that marvelous.
The two hedgehogs glanced around.
They saw a crow in a nearby tree.
They saw a sign tacked to the same tree that had a picture of a goose that said, lost goose, if found, call Philip.
And finally, in the faint light of the coming dawn, they saw a dragonfly zipping in slow circles in the forest air.
They learned the dragonfly had a name, Philomena.
I wish to learn your ways.
Our ways? Our particular ways of life.
Philomena nodded. I've been spying on, I mean, innocently observing you both for weeks now.
I yearn to live. As you live.
Know what you know and behave as you act.
I mean, behave. Wow.
How flattering. Right then and there, Little Hedgehog and Bebe made an appointment with Philomena and added it to their planners.
They watched Philomena add it to her own teensy planner.
It was decided the dragonfly would visit Little Hedgehog's burrow in three nights time for her very first tutoring session.
Here's the address, Little Hedgehog said handing Philomena a card with directions to her burrow.
Just knock on the door.
Remember to arrive precisely at 3 37am.
This will help you practice arriving extremely early to everything, which is one of my personal ways.
I'll be there. 3 37am on the dot.
We can also go over bookshelf organization and sharing ideas in a confident manner, such as I have an idea I need to tell you immediately.
Very good. Bebe said, scribbling a note.
Oh, and also we have to teach her to express exuberance.
Of course, Bebe added a bullet point to her list with a single word beside it.
Yay. Hey, Little Hedgehog and Bebe swiveled around to see Mr.
Hedgehog in the doorway of Little Hedgehog's room.
Oh, hi, dad. You scared me.
Indeed, Mr. Hedgehog.
We were completely absorbed in our task of preparing for our very first tutoring session of a dragonfly named Philomena.
Mr. Hedgehog gave them a puzzled smile.
So the babysitter will be here in just a couple of minutes and I wanted to go over.
What? We are alarmed, Mr.
Hedgehog. This is completely and wholly unexpected.
I told you guys about this.
Yes, but dad, we thought the babysitter was coming next week.
Bebe, how do we get this wrong?
Didn't we jot it in our planners?
We jotted it in our planners.
I remember with crystal clarity.
Like I said, she'll be here in a few minutes.
Dad, do you think we can still host our very first tutoring session with Philomena at 3 .37 a .m., even if the babysitter's here?
Philomena wishes to learn our ways, Mr.
Hedgehog. A dragonfly, you said, wants to learn the ways of two hedgehogs?
Makes total sense, dad.
It makes comprehensive sense, Mr.
Hedgehog. Mr. Hedgehog stared at the tiny hedgehogs.
I guess that would be fine.
Yay. With that topic, moderately settled, Little Hedgehog and Bebe turned their attention to the fact that a babysitter would be arriving in mere moments.
We missed out on so much anticipation, Bebe.
Anticipation often constitutes a substantial percentage of one's enjoyment of an event.
All right, well, you're welcome to anticipate the babysitter's arrival for the next.
Mr. Hedgehog glanced at his watch.
Two minutes. While you're doing that, I just want to remind you of a few things.
Okay, dad. Understood, Mr.
Hedgehog. I'll be gone for several hours.
At a conference? Correct.
At a conference. Where you will be delivering the keynote speech and will undoubtedly receive a standing ovation.
Not a keynote, and I will likely get polite applause.
While I'm gone, I expect excellent behavior from the two of you.
Bebe, it was nice of your mom to allow you to stay here to keep Little Hedgehog company, but if you two cause trouble, it will not happen again.
Okay, dad. You will be able to report to my mother that my behavior was impeccable, Mr.
Hedgehog. Good. Make sure you listen to the babysitter.
She comes highly recommended for mother parents at school.
Can we build a campfire while you're gone, dad?
And roast cricket kabobs.
No. Can our babysitter take us bird jumping?
I have a strong desire to leap off a bird.
As do I, or a flying squirrel.
No. Can we call the babysitter Madam babysitter?
No. Dad, do you remember the last time we had a babysitter?
Unfortunately, I do.
She did not seem to enjoy our singing or our dancing.
Or our, there were several knocks at the door.
That must be the babysitter.
Mr. Hedgehog went to the door with Little Hedgehog and Bebe trailing close behind.
That's strange. Mr.
Hedgehog said, peering into the dark night forest.
There's no one there.
Mr. Hedgehog closed the door.
Little Hedgehog and Bebe exchanged a curious look.
Bebe, the babysitter is invisible.
That is a plot twist I did not see coming.
Mr. Hedgehog opened the door and again peered out.
Then came a voice. Hello, I am Estelle, your babysitter, reporting for duty.
Mr. Hedgehog followed the sound of the small voice to a very small creature.
After welcoming Estelle into the burrow, Mr.
Hedgehog spent several minutes pacing.
He mentally reviewed the recommendations he'd received from several of the parents of Little Hedgehog's classmates.
Estelle is very good at juggling responsibilities and also mealworms.
She keeps all her eyes on your child at all times.
She taught my son to knit, which is difficult for a turtle.
No fingers. It had apparently not been worth mentioning that Estelle was also a spider.
It was clear from Little Hedgehog's and Bebe's delighted smiles that they were charmed by this turn of events.
Meantime, Mr. Hedgehog checked his watch and scratched his chin prickles with a paw.
I assure you, I am very experienced with caring for nocturnal mammals such as your daughter, Estelle said.
I also speak 12 languages.
Impressive. And I have certifications in prickle care.
Certifications? I love certifications.
Hedgehog bedtime procedures.
I love bedtime. Splinter removal.
Hmm. I typically acquire a splinter at least fortnightly due to my general outdoorsy -ness.
And tourniquet application.
I am quite capable of creating a custom silk tourniquet in under 90 seconds.
I am happy to demonstrate this right now.
That won't be necessary.
Little Hedgehog and Bebe grinned prickle to prickle.
Estelle smiled confidently.
Mr. Hedgehog glanced at his watch.
Dad, don't you need to get going.
You do not want to be late for your conference.
Mr. Hedgehog nodded slowly.
That's right. This will be fine.
This will be fine. The two hedgehogs and the spider blinked up at Mr.
Hedgehog. Girls, remember what I told you.
Best behavior. Oh, and clean up that mess in your room, Little Hedgehog.
Dad, that's not a mess.
It is our paper garment factory, Mr.
Hedgehog. We made paper outfits for Little Guy Dad.
He's going to look jaunty, Mr.
Hedgehog. Clean it up.
The two tiny hedgehogs nodded.
Mr. Hedgehog gathered his things and made a quick exit before he could overthink it.
Bye, Dad. Good tidings, Mr.
Hedgehog. Goodbye. As soon as the door swung shut, Miss Estelle said, Now that he is gone, you can have all the sugar beets you want.
You may have a pillow fight, sending tiny feathers into the air that we will never realistically be able to clean up.
And, in a stunning crescendo, we will leap off birds.
Little Hedgehog and Bebe's eyes went wide with shock.
That was a humorous joke.
I would never risk my professional reputation for ephemeral glee.
Oh, you really had us going there.
We will be having a pleasant time together while following all of Mr.
Hedgehog's rules and expectations.
Okay, that is a relief.
Miss Estelle withdrew a document binder from her knapsack and opened it to a page with a checklist.
Bebe smiled. Next, she withdrew a tiny kitchen timer.
Our first order of business is to get to know each other better.
Tell me about yourselves.
You've got 60 seconds.
She said, setting the timer.
You first. Me? Okay, what can I say, really?
I love to make up songs, do dance choreography, and make cricket cupcakes with persimmon frosting.
And you? I enjoy wilderness survival, list making, and recounting intriguing tales about the rich history of my peculiar extended family members.
Such as the story of my great -great -aunt Edna, who once tumbled to the bottom of a well and remained there for 23 days until she was rescued by a kindly tortoise who happened to hear the mellifluous songs she played on a harp.
She'd fashioned from sticks and fishing line forgotten at the bottom of the well.
Miss Estelle appeared at Bebe and drawed a brief note on her checklist.
How very enigmatic.
Now, what would you like to know about me?
What are your favorite hobbies?
What do you enjoy doing on your nights off?
Mostly weaving. Oh, makes sense.
And cooking. What do you enjoy cooking?
What is your most favorite dish to prepare?
Miss Estelle thought for a moment.
Little Hedgehog and Bebe grinned from prickle to prickle, absolutely loving getting to know their brand new babysitter.
Definitely dragonflies.
That is my favorite dish.
I simply cannot get enough of them.
Little Hedgehog and Bebe blinked.
The smiles slowly faded from their faces.
Did you say dragonflies?
They're excellent in a stir fry.
Oh, interesting. Little Hedgehog and Bebe exchanged a concerned look, then glanced at the clock on the wall.
In just three hours time, a very specific dragonfly would be knocking at the burrow door.
Um, Miss Estelle? Yes.
My dad wants us to clean my room.
We could do that now.
It is preferable to have a tidy environment.
Miss Estelle glanced at her checklist.
You may have two minutes.
Then please return to the kitchen as I have an activity that I believe will interest you.
Okay. Two minutes is the perfect length of time.
Miss Estelle set the kitchen timer to two minutes, and the two hedgehogs scampered down the hall.
Once inside Little Hedgehog's bedroom, the two friends did clean up.
But also, they discussed the fact that their babysitter's favorite treat would soon be arriving at the burrow door.
They spoke in a whisper so as not to wake Little Guy, Little Hedgehog's pet chameleon, who snoozed nearby in his leafy enclosure.
Bebe, what are we going to do?
We need a plan. What if Miss Estelle snacks in our protege?
That would be regrettable.
So regrettable. We need to prevent it from happening at all costs.
Bebe thought for a moment, I have developed a plan.
I believe it has a 97 % chance of success.
Okay. The two hedgehogs swiftly got to work on the plan.
Little Hedgehog wrote a note in lovely looping handwriting that said, beware, wily spider within.
Tutoring session cancelled.
Find us tomorrow evening to reschedule.
Ta -ta for now. She and Bebe then scampered quickly and quietly down the hall.
Bebe eased open the front door and affixed the note to it.
Facing the forest. So that Philomena would be fully warned when she arrived in a few hours time.
Little Hedgehog and Bebe closed the door, dusted off their paws, smiled happily at a job well done, and scampered to the kitchen, just as the timer rang out.
I'm so glad that's completely taken care of, Bebe.
Now we can focus on having a splendid evening with our babysitter.
Bebe, do you think Mrs.
Stell has a game for us to play?
If so, I hope it is a game that involves a map or an atlas.
I'm in a navigational mood this evening.
The two friends giggled, it is a game of sorts, Mrs.
Stell said, startling the two hedgehogs as she gestured for them to take seats at the wooden table.
She was extremely small and had no ears to speak of, but she clearly had exceptional hearing.
Little Hedgehog and Bebe took their seats and immediately saw before them two platters.
On each platter was one lovely pillowy marsh mushroom mallow, a delicious treat enjoyed by hedgehogs, chinchillas, and the occasional wombat.
The two tiny hedgehogs automatically leaned towards the platters, their eyes sparkling.
Not so fast, allow me to explain the exercise.
Little Hedgehog and Bebe reluctantly leaned away from the treats.
As you can see, we have here two marsh mushroom mallows.
Personally, I cannot digest such things, but from my research I know they are considered delectable by young mammals such as yourselves.
Little Hedgehog and Bebe nodded eagerly.
You may go ahead and eat your marsh mushroom mallow now, or you may wait until later.
After our other activities, and assuming you demonstrate good behavior, I will give each of you two marsh mushroom mallows.
One right now, or two later.
Your choice. Ms. Estelle clasped together several of her feet and smiled.
By the way, there is a candied cricket inside each one.
You may have two minutes and 30 seconds to make your decisions.
There was a moment of silence as each hedgehog absorbed this information.
Bebe! Little Hedgehog said, somewhat fretfully, yes Little Hedgehog, I want to eat the marsh mushroom mallow immediately!
Ms. Estelle silently observed her two hedgehog charges, a hint of intrigue in her many eyes.
That is understandable, but the joyful anticipation of waiting for two marsh mushroom mallows will make up for any sense of disappointment at not getting to eat one now.
I do love anticipating things.
Personally, I do not feel a strong urge to eat this marsh mushroom mallow set so tantalizingly before me.
At this, Ms. Estelle would have raised an eyebrow, if she'd had any to raise.
Thanks to the wilderness expeditions I've taken with my mother, I have become desensitized to the temptations of sugary delicacies.
When one is in a battle for survival, one cannot allow such frivolities to have a hold over you.
I mean, oneself. Little Hedgehog smiled.
Ms. Estelle leaned forward.
For example, Bebe went on, two years ago my mom and I backpacked into a desolate tundra known for its dangers and its elusive crickets.
We lived in a makeshift burrow for weeks on end, surviving on rainwater collected in a catchment system made of fronds.
A sweet dessert could not have been further from my mind, which was focused solely on fashioning snares and cricket nets.
Your rainwater catchment system was made of friends, Bebe?
Like affable frogs?
Fronds. From hardy ferns.
That is an enchanting story.
Have each of you made your ultimate decision?
Will you eat one treat now, or two later?
We'll wait. We shall wait.
Excellent news. Both for our present circumstances, as well as the odds of your future success in life.
Let us move on to our next activity.
In fact, Ms. Estelle came prepared with a series of activities.
Little Hedgehog and Bebe were used to coming up with their own pastimes, most of which were ridiculous.
But with Mrs. Estelle, the night's schedule was planned down to the minute.
First there was a scavenger hunt, in which Little Hedgehog and Bebe had to follow clues to locate trinkets placed around the burrow.
Bebe, when did Mrs.
Estelle find time to hide all these things?
It is a mystery. Then she led them in a choir practice.
Web, web, web. Web of my dreams.
Once again now, with feeling.
Then she announced it was time for them to play outside.
Outdoor physical exertion is crucial for the health of small nocturnal mammals.
According to my rigorous research, the two friends spent 20 wild minutes running around outside.
Leaping in tufts of grass.
By the end of their gallivanting, they were both exhausted and hungry.
Mrs. Estelle led them inside to the kitchen.
You've both done so well, prickly children.
As promised, you may now have your two marsh mushroom mallow treats.
Little Hedgehog and Bebe smiled.
Mrs. Estelle arranged the treats on platters and pushed them towards her hedgehog charges.
Thank you, Mrs. Estelle.
Thank you so much. You are welcome, children.
Enjoy. She left them at the table where they eagerly dug in.
These are so good, Bebe.
Delicious. Yum. Oh, Bebe.
Look at the clock. It's 3 .34 a .m.
It is a good thing we left that note on the front door for our dragonfly protege.
Indeed, Bebe. Indeed.
Bebe. Little Hedgehog said a moment later as she finished her snack.
Yes, Little Hedgehog.
Bebe said as she took her last bite.
Where do you think Mrs.
Estelle went off to?
Let us go find out.
The two hedgehogs scampered out of the kitchen and into the hall.
Bebe. Do you feel that gentle midnight breeze?
I do. Where could it be coming from?
Bebe put a paw to the wind.
Given the direction of the breeze, I believe it is originating from...
Bebe frowned. The front door.
Little Hedgehog and Bebe exchanged an alarmed look and ran towards the burrow door.
It was wide open, which meant the beautiful paw -written note they had affixed to it, warning Philomena to stay away, would not be visible.
Through the open door, the hedgehogs saw the beautiful starry night sky.
They saw the glowing crescent moon.
They saw an owl perched in a tree.
They also saw... Miss Estelle, hard at work, weaving a web in the door frame.
Oh, hello, children.
Mrs. Estelle said, turning to regard them from the middle of her web.
I figured I would acquire myself a snack.
Oh, hmm... Bebe, are you thinking what I'm thinking?
I believe I am. At that very moment, they heard a faint buzzing sound.
Then saw a familiar -looking dragonfly approaching the open door.
Philomena smiled serenely as she drew near, indicating she likely saw the two hedgehogs whose ways she wished to learn, but also indicating she likely did not see the expertly woven spider web shimmering in the moonlight.
Miss Estelle smiled with delight as she noticed her favorite type of treat, heading straight for her trap.
Little Hedgehog and Bebe exchanged a final, significant look, nodded to one another, then turned towards the door.
Leap! The hedgehogs leapt.
Just as Philomena was about to cross the threshold of the doorway, with Miss Estelle watching, blinking her many eyes in unhappy confusion, Little Hedgehog and Bebe sailed through the air, crashing through the spider's web.
Little Hedgehog spun into a rather graceful roll and tumbled across the ground.
Bebe, who did not have the rolling jean, hit the forest floor with a thud.
Miss Estelle cried from the torn edge of her mangled web.
Philomena shrieked, a spider!
She zipped back the way she'd come and disappeared into the night air.
Find us to reschedule, Philomena, Little Hedgehog called into the dark.
We will jot it down in our planners, Bebe added.
Several minutes later, Little Hedgehog and Bebe were seated at the kitchen table, trying to explain what had just taken place to Miss Estelle, who stood on the tabletop with several of her legs crossed and a pinched look on her face.
Her name is Philomena.
She wishes to learn our ways.
She's our protege. We could not allow her to become irretrievably entangled in your web and potentially tossed in a stir fry.
It would have been regrettable.
Extremely regrettable.
The friends went silent.
There was a long, awkward moment.
Then Miss Estelle clasped two feet together in a steeple and said, Children, you should have told me, had I known, I would never have aimed to catch your protege in my web.
As I said earlier, I would never risk my professional reputation for ephemeral glee.
We're utterly relieved.
And we are so sorry.
Please accept our apologies for ruining your magnificent, skillfully constructed, dazzling, well -formed web.
Little Hedgehog and Bebe stared at their tiny babysitter with wide eyes.
Of course I accept.
Now, Miss Estelle said, glancing at her checklist, I believe it is time for bed.
In addition to being skilled at juggling responsibilities and mealworms, caring for prickles, speaking 12 languages, removing splinters, and stir frying dragonflies, Miss Estelle was rather talented at playing the piano.
She had somehow fit into her little knapsack.
In sleeping bags on the floor of Little Hedgehog's bedroom, the two friends fell asleep to their miniature babysitters, Malefluis Music, their minds and hearts at peace, knowing their dragonfly protege was somewhere in the forest.
Safe and sound, just as the sun crested the hill.
I hope you loved the story, and I will interpret the Studio Spider's silence as agreement that I've done my job.
Little Stories for Tiny People is written, performed, and produced by me, Rhea Pector.
My in -house tech director, Peter Kaye, runs my website and puts my stories on the internet for all of you to enjoy.
Thank you to my Little Stories premium subscribers who are making it possible for me to keep sharing my stories with children around the world.
If you would like to get more of the stories you love, access to Little Stories for Sleep, an exclusive bedtime podcast and ad -free listing.
Join or gift a subscription at littlestoriespremium .com.
Thank you to Ty for the super important reminder message at the beginning.
And thank you to the many premium subscribers who supplied sound effects used in this story.
Thank you to Maxwell, Lyra, Katerina, Luciana, Nia, Ayla, Evie, Barrett, Eliza, Rekia, Joel, Imogen, Izzy, Felix, Samuel, Marianne, and Felicia.
And thank you, as always, for listening in.
