← Koala Moon: Kids Bedtime Stories & Sleep Stories for Kids Podcast
Koala Moon: Kids Bedtime Stories & Sleep Stories for Kids Podcast
Don't Forgetti, It's Spaghetti The Yeti! 🍝 ❄️ Relaxing Bedtime Story For Kids
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- [00:11]
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Hello and welcome back to Koala Moon, a podcast of original bedtime stories and sleep meditations for kids designed to make bedtime a dream. We are pulling back the heavy velvet curtains of the Koko Club and warmly welcoming in tonight James Alfred Wilson and Aidan and Cillian, who are Irish Norwegians living in Norway with a birthday between Christmas and New Year. Ooh, that special time. And you've been really enjoying Koala Moon, so that's lovely. And also finally, Camden. Hiya. Thank you for joining. You're in Sydney, Australia. Enjoy all your loads and loads of stories, guys, and your ad free listening and yeah, thanks for signing up for the year. So in tonight's story, Disco the Dragon is going to make his way through the snowy Pillowy peaks to his favourite restaurant. Can you guess what it's called? It's Yeti Spaghetti, isn't it? Where a surprising sign greets him. It hints that something has changed inside. He discovers that his little friend, Little Foot has some very exciting big news. He has a brand new name. Over a cosy bowl of pasta, Disco learns the heartfelt story behind the change. And he realises that while names may change, true friendship always stays the same. Before we begin, a quick message for the grown ups. If you'd like to support our podcast, enjoy ad free listening Unlock four bonus stories per month and much, much more. You can join Koko Club. Subscribe in just two taps via the link in the show notes, but now here's a quick word from our sponsors.
- [01:57]
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Imagine an audio drama that brings the whole family together, filled with adventure, heart and surprising twists and turns. Introducing welcome to Hope Springs, the new audio drama from the Augustine Institute. Here's a place for you to turn off the screen, turn on your imagination and join a group of young friends whose adventures lead to times of laughter, courage and faith. Ready for the fun? Follow welcome to Hope Springs on Apple Podcasts, Spotify or wherever you're listening now.
- [02:29]
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This is don't forgetti. It's Spaghetti, the Yeti. Written by Luke Prendergast. One crisp evening on the peaceful slopes of Pillowy Peaks, Disco the Dragon was heading to his favourite restaurant, Yeti Spaghetti. He was in the mood for a delicious bowl of warming pasta before he took himself home for a cosy night's sleep. Yeti Spaghetti, the restaurant run by Little Foot. The Yeti had been open for quite some time now and it had quickly become a runaway success. People didn't just travel from all over Pillowy Peaks for a plate of Little Foot's famous spaghetti. They travelled from all corners of the Koala Kingdom. Even on a very dark night when snow fell thickly from the sky and made seeing anything very difficult indeed, the orange glowing windows of Yeti Spaghetti acted like a beacon for those navigating the peaks. And they all knew that once they arrived, there would be many pleasures in store for them. A toasty fire, an irresistible meal, and some fabulous tales told by Little Foot himself. So it was with a glimmer of joy that Disco spotted the familiar wooden chalet building of Yeti Spaghetti appearing around the corner of the mountain. He trudged through the snow, listening to the last seconds of his favourite song on his blue fluffy headphones, and when he reached the door of the restaurant, he paused. Outside the door there was a sign swinging creakily in the breeze. Under New Management, Disco read. Then he frowned. Hmm, he murmured to himself. Under new management. Does that mean that Little Foot is no longer the owner of Yeti Spaghetti? But where could Littlefoot have gone? How curious. And thinking he really ought to check out what was occurring, Disco pushed open the door and stepped inside. But inside Yeti Spaghetti, Disco discovered that nothing at all had changed. Everything was just how it had always been. There was the crackling fire, the tables with their red gingham tablecloths, the twinkling of water glasses, the customers smiling and chattering away. And there, behind the counter, Disco saw with relief, was Little Foot, just the same as ever. Big, fluffy, friendly Little Foot, still the manager of Yeti Spaghetti. It seemed you're still here, disco said, a little puff of steam emanating from his snout as he went to give Little Foot a hug. I thought you'd gone somewhere without telling me. Why, Disco? The Yeti replied. Why ever would you think that? Because of the sign out the front, of course. Little Foot, disco explained. He says under new management. Little Foot gave a chuckle. Oh, that, he said. That's a little joke I'm having with myself. Because even though I'm still here, the truth is, Disco, something rather important about me's changed. What's that, Little Foot? Disco asked. Actually, little Foot said, that's just the thing. My name has changed. I'm not going to be called Little Foot anymore. From now on, I'm called Spaghetti Spaghetti the Yeti. And don't you forgetti. Disco let out a chuckle. He couldn't help it. He had to laugh at that little joke because it was very funny. And he had to admit that Spaghetti was a great name and suited his old friend Little Foot very much, for there was nothing in the world that he loved so much as Spaghetti. And yet Disco found the name change a little tricky to get his head around. Trying to think of Little Foot as Spaghetti was making the scales on his forehead crinkle up. Its not so unusual. Disco's yeti pal told him now, for people to change their names. I mean, lots of folks have nicknames or use their middle names instead of their first names, or get to a point in life where they feel that their name no longer suits them so they change. Happens all the time. Disco had never thought about it like that before. I guess you're right, Little Foot, he said. I mean Spaghetti. Sorry, Spaghetti. The yeti gave Disco a big, warm smile. It's OK to get it wrong sometimes, he reassured him. You don't have to apologise. It'll take some getting used to, but you'll get there eventually. Disco nodded. In fact, he felt like he was getting used to the new name already. So tell me, Spaghetti, how did you come about deciding on your new name? That said Little Foot, is actually quite a wonderful story. How about I tell you all about it over a bowl of my special spicy spaghetti? That sounded like a great idea to Disco. So he took a seat at one of the tables and a few minutes later, Spaghetti brought him out a plate of pasta with lots of vegetables and hot fiery chillies, a dragon's favourite dish. Spaghetti took a seat at the table with him, and as Disco tucked a fork into his pasta and took a first bite, Spaghetti told him the story of how he got his new name. Just a couple of weeks before, when he was still called Little Foot, our favourite yeti received a letter in the post. From just one look at the swoopy scrawl of the handwriting, which made every letter appear very much like a loop of spaghetti, Little Foot could tell exactly who the letter was from. His old friend from Italy, the spaghetti. The year before, Little Foot had taken a plane to visit the snowy summit of the European Alps. And what a riprorious time he'd had learning Italian words and skiing on slopes of perfect powdered snow. And then, near the end of his trip, he'd popped into a little restaurant for a meal and there he'd eaten the most delicious bowl of pasta he'd ever eaten in his life. And you can trust me, Little Foot had eaten a lot of bowls of pasta. He'd been so impressed with the meal that he'd insisted on going to thank the chef personally. So he strode into the kitchen and was quite surprised to discover that the chef was another yeti, just like him, or rather, not quite like him. The chef, as it turned out, was a spaghetti. Instead of having soft silver brown fur like Little Foot did, the spaghetti's body was covered in, yup, you got it. Strands of spaghetti. They covered every inch of his body. Little Foot was amazed. He'd never met another yeti before, let alone a spaghetti. After that, Little Foot and the spaghetti became fast friends. They traded postcards in which they discussed the new and experimental pasta sauce recipes they'd invented, advised each other on how to perfect them and traded tips on making the best pasta dough. And now, according to his letter, the spaghetti was coming to visit Little Foot right here at his home on Pillowy Peaks. He'd be there the following day. Well, Little Foot was overjoyed. It had been a whole year since he'd seen the spaghetti in person and he simply couldn't wait to hang out with his friend once again. There were so many wonderful sights to show him on the Pillowy Peaks. The glittering stalactites and stalagmites that grew in the ice cave, the rock formation down the slope that looked peculiarly like some kind of prehistoric helicopter, and of course, the icicles that hung from the branches of the fir trees, which tinkled like a musical instrument if you ran a pine cone across them very, very gently. Little Foot spent the entire day cleaning the restaurant, making it spick span and gleaming for his friend's arrival. After all, Little Foot did want to impress the spaghetti. And that night he slept soundly through the night. He was woken up by fingers of pale morning sunlight poking through his curtains. He got up and washed and made his way to the ski lift stop, where spaghetti was already waiting for him. When Little Foot gave the Spaghetti a welcome hug, he thought he smelled almost good enough to eat. The Spaghetti peered all around at the mountaintops, engulfed in soft pink clouds, the fine and sparkling snow, the higgledy piggledy roofs of some nearby chalets, and declared that even though he'd only just arrived, the Pillowy Peaks were easily the prettiest mountain range he'd ever seen. So what a fun have you got installed for me today? He asked. I thought I'd show you some of my favourite spots in Pillowy Peaks, Little Foot told him. And the Spaghetti said he thought that sounded like a marvellous plan. And so off the two of them went, wandering down the snowy hillside as they caught up on everything that had been going on in their lives lately. Little Foot told the Spaghetti about how all the creatures of the Koala Kingdom were getting along. And then The Spaghetti told Little Foot a story about a friend of his back in Italy, an Italian greyhound named Pietro. Now, Pietro was known for loving nothing more than table tennis. He'd been playing it since he was a young greyhound pup, and he'd practiced so much that he was one of the greatest table tennis players in all of Italy. And just recently, Pietro had decided that he loved table tennis so much that he decided to change his name to match his love of the game. So now, the Spaghetti explained to Little Foot, Pietro is no longer called Pietro. He's called a Ping Pong from time to time. I do still forget. Oh, Little Foot, he said, suddenly catching sight of his friend's face. What's so wrong? Little Foot's face wore an expression of surprise and curiosity mingled as though he had just seen an object in real life that he had been dreaming about for several nights. The feeling he was having was an uncanny feeling. Like that. Little Foot said, oh, don't worry. There's nothing wrong. It's just a story about your friend Ping Pong. Well, it kind of resonates with me. I haven't really mentioned this to anyone before, but for quite some time I've been feeling that, like the name Littlefoot doesn't suit who I am as a person anymore. And not just because my feet are pretty big. I've been thinking about changing it for something that suits me better, too. The Spaghetti stopped in his tracks and gave Little Foot a big beaming smile. Well, that's the fantastic news, he said. It's almost as if it was an act of fate that I arrived here and told you the story about Ping Pong. Maybe I was supposed to come here to help you find your new name. A feeling of warmth and wonder moved through Little Foot. A new name that was exactly what I wanted. But how do I find a new name? He asked, frowning. Well, Ping Pong chose the name of something he loved, the Spaghetti replied. So it's a good job that we're off to do all the things you love most in Pillowy Pigs. We'll likely find something to inspire you. And feeling like they had alighted upon a foolproof plan, the two yetis urged their feet on, their hearts set on finding a new name for Little Foot. First they went to the ice cave, where green and blue sparkling stalactites hung from the ceiling like frozen gemstone waterfalls, and great stalagmites, like spiralling pointed rocks grew up from the floor. The Spaghetti was so impressed with the beauty of the place that for a few minutes he couldn't even speak. But once he'd found his voice, Little Foot showed him how you could call out gently and hear the sound of it echo as it travelled down to the back of the ice cave. This is a very cool place, the Spaghetti said. And maybe your new name should be Stalactite or stalagmite. Little Foot tried the words on his tongue, letting them roll around in his mouth. They were pretty awesome words, but neither of them felt quite like the right word for his new name. That's all right, the Spaghetti said. We've got the rest of the day to find a name. It's only the afternoon. So they carried on with their travels. They hiked further down the mountain, hopping over granite ledges and sliding down little banks of snow on their bum until they reached Little Foot's next favourite spot, the strange rock formations. Wow. Said the Spaghetti. I didn't believe you before, but you're right. That rock really does look like a helicopter. Little Foot showed the Spaghetti how you could climb up the rock and slip through a hole in it so that you felt as though you were in the cockpit of the helicopter. They both took turns pretending to be the pilot, imagining that they were cruising over the pillowy peaks in prehistoric times, when ginormous friendly giants lived on the mountain range, building everything out of rocks. Maybe helicopter should be your new name, the Spaghetti suggested. Little Foot thought about that for a few moments, then said, I like it a lot. It's a cool name, but I don't think it's the name for me. So the two of them continued on their journey. By now it was almost evening time. The sun was sinking low in the sky, making all the snow crystals shimmers. Little Foot led the Spaghetti to a little clutch of fir trees that grew near the restaurant and showed him the rows of icicles dangling from the branches. That's a very pretty, the Spaghetti said, but I have to say it's not as impressive as the sight you shown me before. Just wait, little Foot replied. That's because you haven't seen the best bit yet. He stepped towards the tree and very gently blew across the dangling icicles. The air filled with a beautiful twinkling sound, ethereal and mysterious, as though produced not by some icicles but by but by some magical wind chimes. It's like a xylophone, Little Foot sighed. The Spaghetti, who had been so moved and transfixed by the beautiful sound that he hadn't been able to speak, now blinked and said, xylophone. Maybe your new name should be Xylophone. Oh said Little Foot. What an interesting idea to try it out. He repeated the word a few times, but then he shook his head. I love the word xylophone, he said, but it just doesn't feel like me. And if it doesn't feel like you, said the Spaghetti, then it can't be your new name. Night was settling on the pillowy peaks. The sky, which had been twilight purple, was quickly darkening to an inky black. Little stars emerged and the koala moon with her soft smiling face rose up into the night, glowing softly. Little Foot and the Spaghetti made their way back to the cosy restaurant with its crackling fire and comfy seats, its quiet hubbub of happy customers. They were both hungry, after all. It had been a long day full of walking and adventure. So Little Foot brought out two big bowls of spaghetti covered in cheese. Mmm, sighed the Spaghetti, licking his lips. Pasta and cheese. My absolute favourite. That's funny, little Foot said with a small grin. It's my absolute favourite too. Together they tucked into their plates of food. After they'd taken a few mouthfuls, Little Foot said, it's just a shame that we didn't manage to find me a new name. Lots of fun words like stalagmite and xylophone, but no name, the Spaghetti agreed. The trick is, he said, you have to think of something you really love. What's something you love most in the world? Little Foot didn't have to think about that for very long. The answer was obvious. Spaghetti, of course, he said. The Spaghetti's eyes lit up. Well then, he announced, that's your new name. Spaghetti the Yeti. Don't you think it has a brilliant ring to it? Little Foot felt a curious feeling of happiness and wonder moving through him just at the sound of the name. Spaghetti. A Spaghetti was right. It did have a brilliant ring to it. And what's more, the name resonated with Little Foot. It just felt so where him. There was only one problem. But that's very close to your name, he said. Hardly, his friend replied. I'm the Spaghetti. Your new name is Spaghetti. It's very different, in my humble opinion. Little Foot smiled at him. So you don't mind if I'm called Spaghetti, then? He asked. Mind? The Spaghetti repeated. Why, of course I don't mind. I'd be delighted. And I think that name suits you just perfectly. You'll be joining the long line of yetis named after Spaghetti in all the corners of the world. He raised a forkful of wound up spaghetti into the air. I hereby pronounce your name changed. From now on you shall be called Spaghetti. Little Foot raised a forkful of spaghetti in the air too, clinked it with the Spaghetti's, and then they both in unison slurped the food down. Spaghetti the Yeti grinned. He was so happy to have found the perfect new name. By the time Spaghetti had finished telling the story of his new name, Disco the Dragon had finished his bowl of pasta and was sitting back in his comfy chair. Wow. He sighed. That is really quite a story. Truth be told, the the Yeti's story had given Disco a lot to think about. Can I tell you something, Spaghetti? He asked his friend. Of course you can, Spaghetti, the Yeti replied. Im really glad that you found a name that you love, Disco said. It can't have been easy spending time being unsure about your name but not being able to find a new one. I've always loved my name. I'm called Disco because I was born to dance. That just makes sense. And you're the greatest spaghetti maker I've ever met, so it makes sense that your name is Spaghetti. Spaghetti gave Disco a big appreciative smile. Thank you, he said. That means an awful lot to me. People can be called whatever they want to be called. A name is meant to make you feel happy and make you feel understood. It's meant to make you feel just like yourself. And that's what Spaghetti does for me. Seeing his friends so happy made Disco feel happy in turn. He thanked Spaghetti the yeti for the delicious meal, gave him a big hug goodbye, and told him they would see each other soon. Goodbye, friend, Spaghetti said. And don't forgetti is Spaghetti the yeti. Disco gave another laugh at the joke and waved goodbye. He made his way out of Yeti Spaghetti, stepping back out into the shadowy mountain. Night had fallen and it was dark, but the soft glow of the koala moon was there to help him find his way home. Disco pulled his fluffy headphones back on top of his head so he could listen to some soothing sounds on his walk and then began to trudge homeward. The snow was soft beneath his feet and tiny snowflakes spiralled all around him. Here and there, mountain creatures, fluffy llamas and arctic foxes and snow white owls were making their way home. Just like Disco. They all had cosy beds to return to with soft downy blankets to keep them warm while they had refreshing sleeps. As Disco walked, he found that he was still thinking about his friend Spaghetti the Yeti. Spaghetti was right. It was a rather big change and it would take some getting used to. But just then, Disco had a sweet realisation. It didn't matter what kind of changes Spaghetti went through. He would still be Disco's best Yeti friend. Always and forever. Yes, he might have a different name now, but he was still the same old fluffy, friendly Yeti that Disco had always known. Nothing could change that. Buoyed by this thought, Disco made his way home through the drifting snow. He was ready for his bed, for the soft snuggle of his duvet, for a long and peaceful sleep. He was ready to close his eyes and drift off into the sweet land of sleep. And then tomorrow, once he was well rested, perhaps he would come back the way he came and visit Yeti Spaghetti so that he could say hello to his new old friend, Spaghetti. The Yeti. Sam. Sa.