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A short message for grown ups. As parents, we know how quickly family time can slip into scrolling time. Everyone on their own devices After a long day, wouldn't it be great to share something active and fun instead? Meet Next Playground, an active game system powered by your body. No controllers, no wearables, just natural motion driven play. Join Bluey and keepy uppy. Fly with how to Train youn Dragon, Dance with Barbie, Pop Bubbles in Gabby's Dollhouse or Train with Kung Fu Panda. All from your living room and it's totally kids safe. No ads, no in app purchases, no mature content, just clean active fun to bring the family together this fall. Want to learn more? Visit nextplayground.com that's nexplayground.com to explore active gaming today. Hello friends and welcome to Sleep Tight Stories. Each week we share a few shout outs and birthday wishes for listeners who help support the show. It's a small way we say thank you and it always makes us smile. A special shout out to my daughters Nalani and Nayana and our dog Shiloh Pooh. Mom and dad love you so much and really enjoy seeing you thrive every day. Happy golden birthday Ryan Eight on the 8th. Mom, dad and Elena love you so much and hope you had a great day. Happy 6th birthday to Rylan from Minnesota. We're so proud of you. We hope this year is the best one yet. Love Mama, Daddy and Greta. Happy 8th birthday Lottie. We love you so and we're very proud of you. Love Daddy, Mommy, Sutton, Rally Pumpkin and Goldie. Happy Birthday to our Lolo. We can hardly believe you are 10 years old already. We've been so proud this last year to see your independence growing, your personality blossoming and your surfing improving. We can't wait to see what else life has in store for you. Love Mama, Papa, Mateo and Noah. Happy Birthday Willow Marston, my busiest bee. You fill the world with joy. Watching you grow is Magic. Happy 6th birthday. Love Daddy. Happy 9th birthday to Scarlet Winter from Mommy, Daddy and Doris. We love you so much. Happy seventh birthday to Thomas from Canberra, Australia on November 16th. And happy birthday to Reed and Eli, identical twins who turned 9 on November 11th. Mom and dad are so proud of you and we love you so much. 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 the show Notes. Now on to our story. Maggie loves reading. She reads in bed at the table, on the bus, everywhere she can. Maggie's mom is always trying to get her to put the book away, but Maggie just can't stop reading. Maggie and the Snowplow Incident Maggie woke up the same way she always did, with her hand already reaching for her book. It was right there on her nightstand, exactly where she'd left it at 11:47pm when her mom had physically removed it from her hands. The Mystery of the Clockwork Library. A kid detective, a bunch of weird clues, and a library that might be alive. She was on page 247, and the main character had just found a secret compartment behind a bookshelf. And Maggie, breakfast. And please tell me you're not reading right now. Maggie's glasses were already on, book already open. She squinted at the page while simultaneously trying to find her slippers with her feet. I'm coming. She yelled, which was technically true. She was coming. Very slowly, while reading, she made it to her doorway, then the hallway. The stairs were trickier. She'd memorized there were 13 steps, but today she miscounted and walked straight into the wall at step 11. Ow. When the words got good, everything else just faded, like someone turned down the volume on real life. Maggie knew this was probably not normal. Peg, her best friend, had tried it once and said it didn't work, that the world stayed loud and annoying no matter how hard she stared at the page. But for Maggie, the world disappeared. After navigating the hallway, Maggie made it to the kitchen table, still reading, somehow finding her chair without looking. Pizza bagels with bacon, her mom said, sliding a plate in front of her. A little treat to start the day. Mmm. Maggie turned to Paige. Pizza was Maggie's favorite food, and bacon her number, too. Her phone buzzed. Peg's face filled the screen, looking annoyed. I tried your disappearing trick again, peg said before Meggie could even say hi. I stared at my book so hard my eyes hurt. Mitch still wouldn't stop talking about his silly hockey cards. How do you do it? I don't know. It just happens. Her mom cleared her throat loudly. Speaking of things that just happen, remember the math test incident? Maggie stopped chewing. Oh, no. Not the math test incident talk again. Last month, she'd been so deep into her book during a math test that she'd forgotten to, you know, actually take the test. Just sat there reading at her desk while everyone else wrote equations. Mrs. Palmer's face when she collected the blank paper and her mom's horror during the parent teacher meeting was something she didn't want to experience or Talk about again. No reading during tests, walking, or when I'm talking to you, her mom said firmly. That's like most of the day. The bus ride to school was the best part part of Meggie's Day. 23 minutes of uninterrupted reading time. While someone else did the driving. She climbed on, book already open, and nearly sat in someone's lap before Peg grabbed her arm and steered her to their usual seat. You're going to break your neck one of these days, peg said. Mm. Maggie turned the page the main character had just discovered. The secret compartment was actually a tiny elevator going down, down, down into the library's basement, where apparently there was a whole other library with books that moved on their own. Are you even listening to me? Yep. Neck breaking. Got it. Mitch threw a wadded up paper at her head from two rows back. It bounced off her hood. Maggie didn't even notice. I give up, peggy muttered. First period was English, which was perfect because Mrs. Chasen let them have silent reading time for the first 15 minutes. Maggie was already reading anyway, so this was basically a free pass. Second period was history. Mr. Hennessy was talking about ancient Rome or something. Maggie had her book propped open inside her textbook. She'd gotten pretty good at the fake reading the textbook trick, as long as she looked up every few minutes and nodded. Teachers usually left her Al. Outside the window, snow started falling, big fat flakes that stuck to everything. Maggie. Mr. Hennessy's voice cut through the library basement scene. Can you tell us about the Roman aqueducts? Meggie looked up, blinked. Um, they were, um. Someone snickered. Probably Mitchell, perhaps. Pay attention to this world for a bit, Mr. Hennessy said. But he wasn't really mad. He never was. He'd told her once that his daughter was the same way with books. By the third period, Maggie had already walked into two different walls and a water fountain. Her purple hoodie had a wet spot on the sleeve where she'd missed her mouth while drinking. The book was just so good. Lunch was when things got really bad. She was reading on her way to the cafeteria, technically walking, which broke her mom's rule, but also technically, her mom wasn't there to see it. The main character had just discovered the library's secret message system, and Maggie absolutely had to know what happened next. Wet floor, the sign said in big yellow letters. Maggie didn't see it, obviously. Her foot hit the slick tiles and suddenly she was sliding, arms windmilling, book flying up in the air. She crashed into the lunch line like a bowling ball knocking over an entire tower of chocolate milk cartons. Splash, splash, splash splash. Milk everywhere. On the floor, on the counter, soaking into her favorite hoodie. Nice one, Book girl. Mitch's voice. Of course, he was probably cackling his silly head off. The lunch lady, Mrs. Rodriguez, just sighed and reached for the mop. Third time this month, Maggie. Sorry, maggie mumbled, rescuing her book from a puddle. The pages were okay. That's what mattered. Fourth period was worse. Maggie walked up to her locker, reading, spinning the combination lock without looking. 36, 12, 8. She'd done it a million times. The locker popped open. Uh, what are you doing? Maggie looked up. Mitch stood there staring at her, then at his open locker, which she was currently standing in front of with her hand inside. Oh. Maggie blinked. Wrong locker. Yeah, I can see that. Are you trying to steal steal my stuff? No, I just. Wait. Your combination is 3612, 8. How do you know my combination? Maggie thought about it. I don't know. I figured it out last week when I was reading and absolutely spinning random locks. I guess. Mitch looked annoyed and impressed at the same time, which was a weird expression on his face. That's actually kinda creepy, book girl. Your combination should be harder. Maggie closed his locker and walked three down to her actual locker. You're so weird. Mitch called after her. By fifth period, things got even worse. She'd been reading while walking to the bathroom, went through a door, didn't look up until someone yelled and then realized too late that she'd walked into the boys bathroom. She ran out so fast her glasses nearly flew off her face, her cheeks burning so hot they probably could have melted the snow outside. Peg found her in the hallway afterward, eyes wide. Did you just. We're not talking about it, Maggie. Nope. Not happening. But even with her face still red, even with milk drying crusty on her hoodie, even with the bathroom thing, Maggie couldn't stop reading. The book had her. The library in the story was calling to the main character, whispering secrets, and Maggie had to know what they were. Her mom would say this was a problem. Maggie called it a commitment. After school, the snow had piled up fast, the kind of snow that made everything look soft and quiet except for the rumble of the plows working overtime to keep the roads clear. Snow day tomorrow, Maggie thought hopefully as she walked toward the bus. A whole day of reading with only breaks for food. But first she had to get home. She walked down the sidewalk, book open in her hands. The main character had just found the secret door in the library, the one that led to all the other worlds and was reaching for the handle and Maggie. Peg's voice, far away at the bus stop. Maggie, wait. But Maggie couldn't hear her. Not really. The words on the page were too loud. The main character turned the door handle. Light poured out, golden and warm, and someone was yelling. Multiple someones. A rumbling sound getting closer. Louder. Book girl, move. That was Mitch's voice. Why was he yelling? Why was everyone always yelling at her? Maggie looked up from her book. The snowplow was right there. A massive orange monster blade lowered, pushing a wall of snow that had to be 8ft high, coming straight at her. Time did a weird thing where it went really fast and really slow at the same time. Whoosh. The wall of snow hit her like a cold wet blanket getting thrown over her head. Everything went white. Snow everywhere. In her mouth, her nose, her ears, down the back of her neck. Her glasses got knocked sideways. Her book. Where was her book? She stood there for a second, completely covered, looking like one of those snow sculptures people make in their front yards. Except this one was shaped like a confused fifth grader. For a moment Maggie considered just staying there, becoming a permanent snow fixture in front of the school. Here lies Book girl, the plaque would say. She never saw it coming. Then she heard voices, muffled through all the snow. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Peg panicking. Is she okay? Mitch called out, then quieter. Should I poke her with a stick or something? Don't poke her with a stick. Peg yelled. The snowplow driver's door opened with a creak. Oh geez. Oh geez. I'm so sorry. Didn't see you there, kiddo. His voice was high and worried. Hang on. We'll get you out. Hands started digging. Light broke through the snow above her head. And then she was out, hauled up by the bus driver and a couple of sixth graders. Snow covered every inch of her. Her glasses were sideways and full of slush. Her hoodie was so heavy she could barely stand. The snowplow driver stood there wringing his hands. I am so sorry. You okay? Nothing broken. I swear I didn't see you. You were reading and oh boy, your mom's gonna be upset. I'm okay, meggie said. Her voice came out weird and shaky. I'm okay. Peg threw her arms around her, which just made more snow squish between them. You scared me so much. Then she pulled back and looked at Maggie's snow covered face. You look like a yeti. A short yeti, mitch added, trying to grin but still looking pale. That was actually kind of cool. In a really, really dumb way. We need to call your mom, the bus driver said, already pulling out her phone. Maggie looked down at the book in her hands. The pages were wrinkled, water stained, completely ruined. She'd never know how the story ended. Not right away, anyway. And for the first time ever, that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was that she'd been so lost in her book she'd almost walked right into a snowplow. That evening, Maggie sat on the couch, wrapped in blankets with hot chocolate she didn't ask for. The ruined book sat on the coffee table between them, pages wrinkled and wavy, cover warped. Maggie. Her mom's voice was quiet, the I'm worried kind of quiet. You could have been hurt. Really hurt. I'm sorry, maggie whispered. Her mom was quiet for a minute, then reached over and pushed Maggie's still damp hair out of her face. I love that you love books. You know I do. And I never want you to stop loving them. But. She paused, choosing her words carefully. The world in books is wonderful. And the real world, it's pretty wonderful, too, if you look up sometimes. Maggie thought about that, about Peg's worried face, the snowplow driver apologizing, even Mitch looking scared for her. I scared you today, maggie said quietly. You did. And you scared yourself, too, I think. Maggie nodded. How about we make a deal? Her mom said. You can read as much as you want, but only when you're sitting or standing still. No walking, no during tests, definitely not near snowplows. Maggie nodded slowly. And in exchange, I'll replace your book. We'll go to the bookstore this weekend. Maggie looked at the ruined book, then at her mom's worried face. Deal. Her mom pulled her into a hug. Just be safe, Bug, that's all. I will, maggie said, and she meant it. The next day at school, because of course, there was school. Maggie stood at her locker with her book safely in her backpack. You okay? Peg asked. Yeah. But I'm only reading at lunch and on the bus now when I'm sitting. Mitch walked by. Hey, book girl, try not to get turned into a snow sculpture today. Try not to bore everyone to death with your hockey cards. Mitch grinned. She lives. Maybe he wasn't 100% annoying. At lunch in the cafeteria, Maggie sat firmly in her chair. New book open. The librarian had found her another copy that morning. Can't leave you hanging, she'd said. The words pulled her in. Everything faded. The noise, the smell of cafeteria pizza, Mitch's voice talking about hockey. The main character stepped through the golden door, and Maggie's phone alarm buzzed five minutes before lunch ended. She surfaced, looked around, saw Peg waving at her, saw the real world still there, waiting. She marked her page and closed the book. The story could wait. And that is the end of our story. Good night. Sleep tight.