Transcript
A (0:08)
Hello, friends, and welcome to Sleeptight Stories. Jacob has a pet ferret who loves to play. Jacob is trying to get ready for school and is having a hard time finding all the things he needs to take with him. Trix the Treasure Hunter Jacob was trying to eat breakfast. Trix had other plans. The ferret bounced across the kitchen table, which he wasn't supposed to be on, and did his war dance right next to Jacob's bowl. Back arched, hopping sideways like a wind up toy that got stuck on the hyper setting. Trix, no. I'm eating. Jacob pushed him gently away and grabbed another handful of toasty O's. Trix circled back, tail puffed out, ready for round two of let's play right now. You already had playtime. Jacob crunched his cereal faster. The bus came in 15 minutes and he still needed to get dressed and pack his backpack and find his. Wait, where was his backpack? Jacob jumped up from the table. Trix immediately stole three O's from his bowl and zoomed under the couch tricks. But there was no time to fish him out. Jacob ran upstairs to his room, taking the steps two at a time. Backpack was on his bed. Good. Homework folder, check. Library book, check. Now he just needed socks. And Mom. Jacob yanked open his sock drawer. Mom, where are all of my socks? None of them match. Jacob dumped the entire drawer onto his bed. One red sock with dogs on it. One blue sock with rockets. A green one that was inside out and kind of crusty. And that was it. Jacob, the bus comes in 12 minutes. Mom called from downstairs. I know. He dropped to his knees and looked under the bed. Just dust bunnies. And was that a granola bar wrapper? When did that get there? He couldn't wear mismatched socks. That was the rule. Well, not a real rule that grown ups made, but everyone knew you had to wear matching socks. Otherwise kids would notice and then someone would say something and then the whole day would be weird. Trix appeared in the doorway doing his slinky walk, the one that meant he was up to something. Did you take my socks? Jacob asked. Trix tilted his head. His little nose twitched. Because I need matching socks, Trix. Two of them that go together. Trix bounced once, then disappeared under the bed. Jacob groaned and flopped onto his stomach to look. Trix, I don't have time for. But Trix wasn't playing. He was sitting in the back corner, right behind the bookshelf, his tail doing that guilty twitch thing. Jacob army crawled closer. What did you. Oh. Behind the bookshelf was a pile. A whole Entire pile of socks. His socks. Dad's good black dress sock. The one dad said the dryer ate. Mom's fuzzy purple ones. Even a dish towel, which wasn't a sock at all. But apparently Trix didn't care about that detail. Trix? But Jacob was laughing now, even though he shouldn't be. You've been stealing socks this whole time? Trix grabbed one, a blue sock with stars, and tried to drag it deeper into his hiding spot. No, that one's mine. Jacob pulled out two that actually matched green with white stripes. Not his favorites, but they'd work. 10 minutes. Jacob. Mom's voice again. He shoved his feet into the socks and ran back to his desk. Now he just needed his pencils. And he could. His pencil case was empty. Completely, totally empty. Oh, no. Jacob flipped the pencil case upside down and shook it. Nothing fell out. He checked his backpack again. The front pocket, the side pockets, that weird little pocket inside that he never used. No pencils. His desk drawer empty except for some paper clips and a broken crayon. Where are they? He needed his pencils. The blue mechanical one that clicked just right. The yellow one he always used for math because yellow was a math color. The one with the really good eraser that didn't leave smudges. Jacob. Five minutes. I know. His voice came out squeaky. Trix was in the hallway now, doing that war dance again, hopping sideways, back arched, making that little huffing sound. Trix, I can't play. I need my pencils. Jacob ran past him to check the bathroom. Sometimes he did homework in there when Bobby, his little brother, was being too loud in their room. But the bathroom counter was empty. Trix bounced after him, then zoomed back to Jacob's room. Are you trying to tell me something? Jacob followed him. Is this like that movie where the dog knows where the treasure is? Trix dove under the bed. Not again. Jacob got on his stomach for the second time that morning. Trix, if you took my pencils too, I'm going to. He stopped. There, way back in the corner near the wall, was another pile, but this one was different, organized. The pencils were arranged in a little fort, standing up like a fence. Inside the fence were shiny candy wrappers, a bottle cap, something sparkly. Was that Mom's earrings and a bunch of crinkly receipts. The blue mechanical pencil was right in front, the pencil captain guarding all of Trix's treasures. You made a fort? Jacob whispered. Out of my stuff. Trix grabbed a candy wrapper and rustled it proudly. Jacob the boss. Jacob reached in and started grabbing pencils. Trix made a sad little chirping sound, watching his fort fall apart. Sorry, buddy, I really need these. But Trix looked so sad that Jacob stopped. Jacob looked at the pile of pencils in his hand, then at Trix, who was sitting very still, staring at his destroyed fort. Okay, how about this? Jacob put back three pencils, not his favorite, just regular yellow ones, and grabbed some of the crinkly receipts from his desk trash can. You can keep these and these. He added the candy wrappers back, too. Trix's nose twitched. He sniffed the receipts. Fair trade. Trix immediately started rearranging everything, pushing the pencils around with his nose until they were just right. Jacob shoved his good pencils into his case and ran down the stairs, grabbing his backpack, almost tripping over his not quite on socks. Got everything? Mom asked, holding the door open. Yes. Except sneakers. Jacob quickly slipped his sneakers on and tied them on the porch. Found my socks behind the bookshelf and my pencils under the bed. And your earring. The sparkly one you lost. Mom blinked. My tricks. Tricks. She laughed. Of course it was. The bus was already at the corner. Jacob ran. He made it just as the doors opened, breathing hard, and collapsed into into his usual seat. His backpack felt heavier than normal, probably because he'd shoved everything in there so fast. Wait. Jacob unzipped his pencil case. Inside were his yellow math pencil, the one with the good eraser, and the blue mechanical pencil. But there was also a regular yellow pencil, one of the ones he'd left for tricks. Trix must have snuck it back in when Jacob was putting on his shoes. Jacob smiled. The blue clicky one was Trix's favorite, too. He always tried to steal it during homework time. Tomorrow he'd hide his important stuff better. Maybe. Probably not. And that is the end of our story. Good night. Sleep tight.
