← Sleep Tight Stories - Bedtime Stories for Kids
Sleep Tight Stories - Bedtime Stories for Kids
Hiro and the Family Secret 🥷
00:21:46
A bedtime story about family, heritage, and discovering that ordinary parents can be extraordinary in their own special ways.
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A short message for grown ups parents. We've all had those times when the whole family is off on their own screens. Wouldn't it be great to find something active and fun that everyone agrees on? Families everywhere are discovering. Next Playground, an active gain system where your body powers the play. No controllers or wearables, just natural 100% motion driven fun. Fly with how to Train youn Dragon, Dance with Barbie, Pop Bubbles in Gabby's Dollhouse or Master Moves with Kung Fu Panda. All from your living room. Even better, you can get 20% off now for Prime Day but only through July 19th so don't wait. Go get yours today. Want to learn more? Visit nextplayground.com that's nexplayground.com to explore active family gaming today. Hello friends and welcome to sleept Stories. We love getting to know our listeners through your stories, messages and birthday wishes. These shout outs are one of our ways of staying connected and saying thank you for being part of our sleept community. Happy belated 5th golden birthday on July 5th to our one and only penny Panini from Mommy, Daddy and Theo. Happy belated 11th birthday to Livy. Mummy and Daddy wish you a very very happy birthday and they love that you are already sleeping with your new Squishmallow. Happy belated 8th birthday to Lucas from Hayden, Idaho on July 11th. Mom, dad and your two little brothers love you so much. Happy 6th birthday Isabel from your Mommy and Daddy, little brother Charlie and your kitty cat Lady B. You are a wonderful girl full of curiosity and kindness. We hope you have the best 6th birthday. We love you. Happy belated 7th birthday to Violet from Tacoma, Washington on July 1st. Mom and dad are so proud of you and love you very much. Happy belated 9th birthday to Jasper in Dalton, Georgia on July 6th. We are so proud of our brave boy who is getting through the summer with a broken leg. We wish him a fast recovery from mom, dad and brother. Happy 5th birthday to Ky Ren, the King of Kindness. We love your curiosity, your laughter and your creativity. Mommy and Daddy and new baby love you so much times infinity. Infinity. Happy 7th birthday to our wonderful son Teddy Simpson. You are such a smart and talented young man and we are so proud of you. Your kindness, curiosity and big heart make every day brighter. Mommy and Daddy love you so very much more than all the stars in the sky. Happy 8th birthday to our favorite gamer and soccer player Robby C in Massachusetts. Mom, dad, Stella and Philomena love you to infinity. Happy 8th birthday to Lividy and happy 6th birthday to Mateo. Mommy and Daddy love you so much. Happy Birthday to our amazing daughter Waverly. Your creativity, kindness, spirit and perseverance inspire us each and every day. We love you more than Googleplex. Love mom, dad, Lola and oreo. And happy 10th birthday to our darling Aleeyah. We love you and are so proud of you. Keep reaching for the stars baby girl. Love mom, dad and Leah. Happy Birthday to you all and thank you for supporting the show. If you'd like to support our podcast and enjoy ad free episodes, unlock bonus stories and so much more, you can join sleept Premium. Subscribe in just two taps via the link in our show Notes. Now onto our story Hero is a young pup with boring parents he wishes his parents were more exciting like his great great grandfather was. When summer vacation starts, he hero begins noticing some strange things about his parents and decides to find out more about what is going on. Hiro and the Family Secret Hiro was a young pup, a mix of shibu, inu and corgi, with fox like ears that twitched when he was curious and sturdy little paws that thudded softly on the hardwood floors. He lived in a big house in Vancouver, which his parents always said made them lucky, and that being lucky meant he should be grateful. That usually came right before a lesson about eating all his vegetables, even the squishy green ones he didn't like very much. It was a rainy Saturday and their plans for the day had been cancelled. Hiro's kendo class was cancelled and someone was having a baby, which meant okasan, his mother, Dr. Yuki, had to rush off to the hospital. Otosan, his father, was buried in paperwork again. Something about taxes. Something boring. Hiro curled up on his favorite cushion in the living room and stared at the old painting that hung above the fireplace. It showed his great great grandfather Hiroshi dressed in elegant samurai armor with a katana at his side and a calm, watchful look in his eyes. Hiro tilted his head. Why did great great grandfather Hiroshi look so brave and important while his own parents just filed papers and told people to say ah, Oka san. Hiro called, perking up as his mother rushed through the room pulling on her coat. Can you tell me again about great great grandfather Hiroshima? He was a protector, she said quickly, smoothing his ears with one hand. He helped keep people safe, just like I help children feel better. But you're not exciting like him, hiro said, then blinked and added quickly, I mean, you're nice Mama. But what kind of protector was he? Was he strong? Did he fight dragons? From the kitchen, Oto's son looked up from behind his newspaper. His glasses slid slightly down his nose. Being helpful is more important than looking excited, little one. What matters is that he served his community with honor. Hero sighed. Always such vague answers. Always rushing off to their boring jobs. As summer settled in, Hiro had more time, and more time meant more noticing little things, strange things, things he might not have paid attention to during the busy days of school and routines. One warm morning they were eating breakfast outside in the backyard. The neighbor's cat, who always wondered over for treats and ear scratches, leapt onto the patio table and knocked over a flower pot without even glancing up from her newspaper. Oka San reached out and caught it. Mid fall. Clean, quiet, like it was nothing at all. Later that week, Hiro watched Ota San washing the dishes. His sleeves were rolled up and Hiro saw the calluses on his paws, thick and rough, more like a gardener's or a carpenter's than someone who typed on a computer all day. There were other things, too. Whispers that stopped when he entered a room, phone calls taken in the basement, long pauses exchanged between his parents when they thought he wasn't looking, and most of all, those evening shifts, the medical conferences and accounting emergencies that somehow required both of them to leave. Always together, always after dark. One night, just as Oba San Sato arrived with her knitting bag and her quiet smile, Hiro gathered his courage. Where do you go at night? He asked, watching his parents lace up their shoes. Boring grown up work, oto San said with a shrug, but Hiro saw him check the window locks twice. Don't worry about us, little one, oka San added softly, brushing his fur with her hand. But as she moved through the hallway, she peered into corners and glanced behind curtains like she was making sure no one was there. Oba San Sato settled into her favorite chair by the window and pulled out her knitting, but Hiro noticed her needles didn't move right away. Her eyes were fixed on the street, still and sharp, as if she already knew what Hiro was only just beginning to wonder. The next morning, Hiro decided it was time to get serious. If his parents wouldn't tell him what was going on, he'd have to sniff out the truth himself. Operation Sneaky Snout was officially underway. He waited until Oto San left for groceries and Okasan was on a video call. Then, tiptoeing through the hallway as much as a young dog with clunky claws could, he began his search. First stop, the laundry room. He sniffed the hamper, soap, towels, and something else, something that smelled like rooftops and rain. He tugged the fabric free with his teeth. It was a black, stretchy outfit with paw holes and thin padding at the knees. Weird, Hero thought. That's not hospital gear. Next he padded to the bookshelf and carefully nosed aside a few cookbooks. Behind them was a small cloth scroll tied with a red string. He pawed it open just enough to peek. Strange symbols, hand drawn diagrams, and tiny writing in what looked like ancient fir brush calligraphy. Very weird. Then under the sofa, Hero found a small black pouch filled with tools, hooks, strings, and a tiny mirror on a bendy stick. He'd seen something like that in a spy movie once. Definitely not normal accountant stuff. He was just sniffing a strange smelling PA bomb when back already. Oba San. Sato's voice drifted in from the hallway. Hiro scrambled out from under the couch and flopped casually onto the rug, tail wagging like nothing at all had happened. Oba San raised one furry eyebrow but said nothing. She just smirked, sat down in her chair, and picked up her knitting. She knows something, Hiro thought. I just know it. The nighttime conferences started happening more often as the summer weeks passed, and eventually Hiro's curiosity grew too big to ignore. One warm evening after another quick goodbye and whispered instructions from his parents, Oba Sansato dozed off in her favorite chair, knitting still in her hands. Hiro stood quietly in the hallway, ears perked. Tonight would be different, he thought. As soon as he heard the soft click of the back door closing. Hiro slipped out through his doggie door and into the night. The air smelled of damp cedar and something faintly metallic. His parents scent was clear on the breeze. He followed the trail through quiet streets, past closed bakeries and sleeping storefronts, all the way downtown. His paws padded silently beneath the glow of streetlights until he reached a tall glass building. The museum. Inside were ancient artifacts, some as old as his great great grandfather's painting. And then Hero saw them. Two figures dressed in black moved across the museum's rooftop. They weren't running or sneaking. They were flowing like water or shadows. One was small and graceful Okasan. The other, broader and precise, could only be Otousan. Hiro froze, tail stiff. These weren't the same parents who folded laundry and made him finish his spinach. They moved with impossible skill, testing windows, examining cameras, and using hand signals that looked almost like a secret language. When Oka San vanished into the shadows and reappeared on another rooftop moments later, Hiro's mouth dropped open. And when Oto san climbed a wall with barely a sound, like a character from a movie, Hiro's world turned upside down. Are they ninjas? Are they the good kind or the bad kind? The next morning, Hiro couldn't eat. He poked at his breakfast kibble and paced around the kitchen. Oka San sipped coffee and flipped through a medical journal. Oto San sorted receipts into neat little piles. You were at the museum last night. Hiro blurted. Silence. Okko san's cup paused in mid air. Oto san's pen froze over a column of numbers. Hiro. Oko San began softly. I saw you. You were in black, climbing walls and vanishing into thin air. Are you? Are you ninjas? Are you bad guys? His parents exchanged a long, silent look, the kind grown ups use when they are deciding something big. Oto San set down his pen. We think it's time, Pastime, oka San agreed. She turned to Hiro with a warm, serious smile. Come sit down, little one. We have a story to share. So they told him everything. They weren't criminals. They were security consultants who used old ninja techniques to help protect places that mattered. Museums, hospitals, even schools. Our family has always been protectors, okasan said, nodding toward the painting of great great grandfather Hiroshima. He wasn't just a samurai. He was part of the Igaru, a real ninja clan that served the Tochigawa government. They weren't like the ninjas in cartoons. They were spies, scouts, and guardians. We've kept those skills alive, otasan said. Only now we use them in modern ways. When the museum needs to test its alarm, we find the weak spots. When a hospital wants to secure its medicine, we make sure it's safe. But why keep it a secret from me? Hiro asked. Oka San smiled and scratched behind his ears. Because we wanted you to have a normal childhood. And because the work we do is built on trust and quiet. We can't go telling everyone what we do. And also, Oto San added with a chuckle, try explaining my parents are ninja security consultants to your friends at the park. That evening, as the family curled up in the living room, Hiro looked up at the painting of great great grandfather Hiroshi with new eyes. So he really was a protector. Her, Hiro said quietly. Just like you. Just like us, okosan replied, her voice gentle. The methods change over time, but the mission stays the same, keeping people and the things they treasure safe. Can you teach me? Hiro asked, his tail giving an eager little thump. Some real techniques? Oto San smiled. Maybe we'll start with the balance. Awareness, patience. The real skills take time, and they come with a big lesson in responsibility. Speaking of responsibility, oko San added with a playful raise of her eyebrow. This has to stay our family secret. Do you think you can handle that, little shinobi? Hiro sat up tall and nodded solemnly. I can handle it. Later that night, Oba San Sato tucked him into bed, her hands moving gently, folding the blanket just so as she smoothed down his ears. She leaned close and whispered, your parents do important work, little hero. They protect the ones who can't protect themselves. Hiro blinked sleepily. Did you know all along, Oba San? She smiled and then gave him a slow, knowing wink. Who do you think taught your mother to move so quietly? As Hiro drifted towards sleep, a warm feeling settled in his chest. Maybe heroes didn't always wear capes or shine in the spotlight. Sometimes they looked like doctors and accountants. Sometimes they lived quietly, moved silently and loved deeply. And sometimes they tucked you in at night. And that is the end of our story. Good night. Sleep tight.