← Sleep Tight Stories - Bedtime Stories for Kids
Sleep Tight Stories - Bedtime Stories for Kids
Ted and Ed, A Frog and a Moose 🐸🫎 ⛱️ Summer Short Stories ⛱️
00:11:52
A bedtime story about a frog and a moose who are best friends.
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Hello, friends. Before we begin, there's a quick ad and then we'll get right to the story. Hello friends, and welcome to sleept Stories. Ted and Ed are sitting by the lake as they do every Friday. Ed has his book and Ted never brings anything. They are great friends and always come to the lake together. On Fridays when it is almost dark, they watch the sky and see a shooting star. Ted goes looking for it while Ed waits. Ted and Ed, a frog and a moose. Ted landed on the book again. Ed didn't say anything. He just waited, the way he always did until Ted hopped off on his own. It usually took about four seconds. Today it took six because Ted spotted a mosquito and had to deal with that first. Sorry, ted said, not sounding very sorry. It's fine, ed said, turning the page. They were down by Miramichi Lake, the same spot they always came to after school on Fridays. Ed had his library book, a thick one about planets that Mrs. Boudreau had helped him find mostly by climbing on her step stool and pushing it along the shelf, while Ed, who was a large moose for his age and took up most of the aisle, pointed. Ted had nothing because Ted never brought anything. Ted was the kind of frog who didn't really need to. The bulrushes were rustling a little. The water was flat and quiet. Ted bounced twice for no particular reason, then sat down next to Ed and looked up at the sky. Almost dark, ted said. Hmm, said Ed. The stars came out slowly, one at a time, the way they do when you're actually paying attention. Ted was paying attention because there was nothing else to do. Ed had stopped reading. It was too dark now, and his book was closed on his knee. They sat there together, not talking, which was actually one of Ted's favourite things, even though he would never say so. That one's called Vega, ed said, pointing up with one enormous hoof. How do you know that book? Ted nodded, like that made total sense. For Ed. Everything came from a book. At school, whenever Mr. Arsenault asked a question, Ed's hoof went up before anyone, before the eagle even, and she was very fast. The other kids didn't mind. That was just Ed. Ted caught a moth that drifted a little too close. Ed made a face. You could try one, ted said. I'm fine, thanks. They're better than mosquitoes. A bit dusty, but Ted. Okay, okay. The lake made small sounds against the mud. Somewhere behind them, a raccoon was rustling around in the bushes, probably Derek from class, who was always rustling around in something. Ted watched the sky and let his back legs dangle off the log. Then he saw it. A streak of light, quick and bright, dragging a thin white tail across the whole sky before it disappeared, gone in about a second. Ted stood straight up. Did you see that? Yes, ed said quietly. They both stared at the spot where it had been, but it was just sky again. Something fell, ted said. Something burned up in the atmosphere, ed said at the same time. They looked at each other. It fell, ted said again. Like it landed somewhere over the way. He pointed across the lake, very specifically, the way you do when you have absolutely no idea. Ed tilted his head. Ted. It was most likely a meteoroid. When they enter the atmosphere at that speed, the friction causes them to. It landed in the trees. It almost certainly did not land in the trees. I'm going to check. Ed opened his mouth, closed it again, and watched Ted launch himself off the log with considerable enthusiasm, covering about a meter per jump in the direction of the far shore. He called after him. The nearest impact craters in New Brunswick are over 300 million years old. Ted. Ted was already halfway around the lake. Ed picked up his book, put it down again, and waited. He was good at waiting. Twelve minutes later, Ed counted. Ted came back. He was slightly muddy and had a bulrush stuck to his head. He climbed back up on the log and sat down. Anything? Ed asked. There was a raccoon over there. Derek? Different one. Ah. Ted pulled the bulrush off his head and looked at it, then set it down carefully on the log, like it might be useful later. So it burned up, Ted said. Most of it, probably. Maybe a small piece made it through. Could be sitting in the mud somewhere. Ed paused. It would have been traveling for a very long time, possibly longer than New Brunswick has existed. Ted thought about that for a second. It was a lot to think about for a Friday night. Huh? He said. They sat for a while after that, not saying much. The lake was very still. Ted could hear himself breathing, which he always found a bit weird. The log groaned under Ed and then went quiet. Ted caught one more mosquito. Ed didn't make a face this time. Do you think it's still out there? Ted said. Like a piece of it? Ed considered this properly, the way he considered most things. Probably somewhere in the mud or in the water. Yes, I think so. Ted looked out across the lake. From where he was sitting, the whole sky was reflected in it. Every star, the dark tree line, all of it. When you were as small as Ted, the sky above and the sky below looked about the same size. He'd never really thought about that before. That's good enough for me, he said. Ed picked up his book, then remembered it was too dark to read and set it back down. He didn't seem to mind. After a while Ted said, I'm going to practice the high jump tomorrow by the boat launch. I know, Ed said. You could come watch. I know, Ed said again. That meant yes and they both knew it. The bulrushes rustled. The raccoon, probably the second one, made a small noise somewhere in the dark. The log creaked once again under Ed's weight, and then everything was quiet again. Ted didn't hop. Ed didn't read. They just sat there under all those stars, one very small frog and one very large moose, while somewhere in the mud at the bottom of Miramichi Lake, something that had been traveling for longer than either of them could imagine, was finally, quietly. And that is the end of our story. Good night. Sleep tight.