Hello, everyone.
This is Ria with a quick note.
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Now, on to the show.
This is Ria.
Welcome to Little Stories for Tiny People.
Our story today is about... Whoops!
I think I'm a little too far from the microphone.
Let me just... Whoa!
Oh no!
Sorry about that.
Allow me to explain.
You may recall that I often sit upon a hard metal stool when I tell you stories.
This time I decided to try out my rolling office chair instead, as it is a bit more comfortable.
But the floor in my studio is rather slick and I went rolling into the bowling pins I set up for later today.
So, I am now switching back to my usual hard metal stool.
In truth, it was never a good idea to sit in my comfortable office chair.
I might have fallen asleep, which is unhelpful when you're trying to stay alert and tell someone a story.
My hard metal stool and the prickly pillow sticking into my back are making all of this possible.
Let's never forget that.
Let's also get to our story.
It's called The Badger and the Sofa.
Take it away, Rohan.
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.
On a clear day in spring, a badger had a beautiful new sofa delivered to his burrow.
The sofa was made by a local weasel, whose pieces were quite trendy in the surrounding area.
The sofa was made of a variety of grasses gathered from the local forest, as well as some imported from far-flung forests.
The cushions were produced from many layers of dried leaves from 17 different types of trees.
It was a one-of-a-kind piece of furniture, and Badger was delighted to place it in a precise spot in his burrow.
When he'd first glimpsed it at the local forest marketplace, he'd known exactly where it should go.
Oh, this will fit perfectly in my reading nook, he'd said, clasping his paws together.
The weasel had sidled over, smiling broadly.
I paw-crafted this sofa with reading in mind.
You didn't.
I did.
Badger had imagined his neighbors admiring the sofa.
Where did you find this gem?
I couldn't possibly sit on it.
It's a work of art.
He had purchased it right then and there, without even sitting on it, and was thrilled to hear it could be delivered in just a few days.
The delivery weasels lowered the sofa off their cart and rested it in the grass next to the opening of Badger's burrow.
There you go.
Sign here, please.
Badger wrinkled his brow.
Is there any way you could bring it down into the burrow?
The delivery weasel squinted.
Against policy.
Sorry about that.
We had to stop delivery below ground about three years ago.
There was an unfortunate incident.
Oh my.
Badger shrugged and signed the delivery form.
The weasels got into their cart and drove away.
Badger stood in the middle of the forest, smiling down at his sofa.
The sun winked through the leaves.
Birds called to one another in the treetops.
Frogs croaked nearby.
But Badger couldn't leave the sofa out in the open.
That would never do.
It would be taken in the night or used as some kind of playground for young creatures.
No, it had to end up in Badger's reading nook where it belonged.
The delivery weasels were smaller than Badger and didn't look particularly strong.
If they could move it, so could he.
Badger would simply nudge it into his burrow.
He planted his hind paws in the leafy ground and pushed against his gorgeous sofa.
It moved, but only slightly.
Badger panted. and was embarrassed for panting after such little exertion.
He glanced around, wondering if anyone, a nosy bird perhaps, was witnessing his feeble attempts.
Hmm, heavier than I thought.
Badger.
Pushed again and again and slowly, he nudged the sofa into the opening of his burrow.
Now all he'd need to do would be to gently push it through the tunnel leading downward into his home.
Gravity will do most of the work, he told himself.
At that moment, A cloud moved to block the sun, and the sunny afternoon became gray.
If Badger had been a superstitious creature, he might have taken it as a bad sign.
Badger pushed against the sofa once more and it began to slide again downward through the tunnel, just as he'd hoped.
His heart soared, and he felt rather proud of himself.
He imagined himself lazing on his elegant new sofa, nestled in his reading nook.
He imagined himself falling asleep for a nice late afternoon nap, his book collapsing beneath his chin.
Soon enough, he muttered to himself.
Then he looked down and noticed the sofa had stopped sliding.
Badger climbed down to the sofa and and pressed against it.
It didn't move.
Just then, Badger's neighbor, Mauricio, appeared above him.
Badger couldn't believe the timing of this.
If Mauricio had come just a few minutes later, Badger would be showing off his magnificent new sofa in its perfect place in his reading nook.
Not panting and sweating with the sofa halfway down the tunnel of his burrow.
Hey, Badger.
Mauricio said.
His brow furrowed as he took in the scene before him.
Hey, Mauricio.
What do you have there?
Uh, this is my new sofa.
It's one of a kind.
I just had it delivered.
Uh-huh.
Badger was appalled.
From his vantage point.
There was no way Mauricio could appreciate the exquisiteness of his new sofa.
Badger suddenly felt ridiculous.
Here, let me help you, Mauricio said.
He was a chipmunk.
Badger looked at him, perplexed.
How would this tiny creature help him?
But Mauricio did not intend to help by pushing.
Instead, he slipped easily between the wall of the tunnel and the cushions of the sofa and called to Badger from the other end.
It stuck, Mauricio said, as if he'd discovered something.
Badger sighed.
Yes, I've figured that out.
It's stuck against a rock.
Mauricio clarified.
Badger had worried this was the case.
Years ago, he had dug his tunnel through fairly rocky soil.
If the sofa was wedged against rocks, this was not going to be easy to fix.
There is so much more to this story.
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And thank you as always for listening in.
