8 Hours Of Sleep In Honeybee Neighborhood

Harold’s bark suddenly vanishes, and we scramble to figure out what’s wrong. Thanks to Roger's “fix,” Harold doesn’t just bark—he talks, revealing hilarious thoughts and Honeybee Neighborhood secrets only dogs know.

By the end, the Doggy Decipherer turns an ordinary day into a groundbreaking adventure, unlocking the voices of every pup in the park! - Love, Mrs. Honeybee 

Featuring: Mr. Honeybee, Melodybee, Roger Robot, and Harold

Transcript

Bedtime with Mrs. Honeybee. Today, In the Honeybee neighborhood, We'll be talking to my dog Harold. Um, Mrs. Honeybee, Are you feeling okay? Of course, Melody Bee. Well, You just said that we'll be talking to Harold. And, Um, As far as I know, Dogs can't talk. There was a time I thought I couldn't have a little bee as a BFF. And look at us now, BFFs all these years later. I can't wait until you hear what Harold has to say. All you have to do is close your eyes, Get cozy, And listen to the sound of my voice. Mrs. Honeybee will be your guide. Let's begin. You are here, Standing at our brightly colored front door, Just about to knock. By now, You expect to hear Harold's happy barks approach with his scurrying paws, Sometimes too fast, Which causes him to bump into the door headfirst. Today, You can hear the pitter-patter of his feet, But nothing else. Melody Bee joins him on the other side of the door, Somewhat concerned at the lack of barks. When the door opens, She asks your opinion on the matter, As Harold jumps his front paws up onto your legs for head pets. You didn't hear Harold bark either, Right? I watched him run over to the door like I usually do when you arrive, Waiting for him to slide right into it, Honestly. But today, I didn't even notice because he was opening his mouth to bark, And nothing came out. You look down at Harold's big, Kind eyes, Looking lovingly back up at you, As his tail wags against the door frame. He looks to be happy and healthy, But barkless. Melody Bee calls for Mr. Honeybee and I as she welcomes you in the house. Come on in. Mrs. Honeybee, Mr. Honeybee, Harold's bark is broken. Harold's what is broken? Did you say paw, Melody Bee? His paw can't break again. What happened? Mr. Honeybee and I come down the stairs and are so, So happy to see you, Like we always are. We also see Harold trotting by your side, Like we usually do, With his tail wagging, Like we usually do. Like both you and Melody Bee, We tilt our heads to the side in unison when we watch Harold open his mouth wide and only silence comes out. He's running circles around your feet, Jumping up and twisting in the air, Trying to process all of his excitement at your presence. Each time he does, More and more silence fills the air where his bark should be. No, Harold's bark broke. Look. How does a bark break? Can dogs lose their voices just like we do? Or maybe it's just broken. A bark cannot break. Well, It's certainly not lost. Do you suppose he accidentally set his voice down on a park bench and someone stole it? Do you think someone stole his bark? Is it lost? It's not lost like that. It's gone. It's. . . Hard to explain, I guess. Harold, Speak. Speak like I taught you, Boy. Nope, No bark to speak of. I'm sorry, Little guy. This is not a time for puns. If he had his bark, He would have surely howled laughing at that one. Oh, Goodness. I'm sorry too, Harold. It's not a time for puns, Even if they're flowing. He seems to be feeling fine, Though. That's good. He doesn't seem to be sick or hurt. Just barkless. Standing in the kitchen, We think to ourselves how we can help Harold's bark, And if that's even possible. Such a finicky thing a bark is. Wondering this to yourself, Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the coolness of the air coming in through your nose, Finding its way down to your lungs, And expanding out your chest. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth, With an audible ah, To enjoy the sound of your own beautiful voice without ever taking it for granted. Harold, I guess it's safe to assume barks are pretty much like voices. When I lose my voice, I mean, When my voice breaks, I drink plenty of tea with honey. Dear, Do you know off the top of your head if it's safe for dogs to have honey? Hmm, I think. The top of my head contains all answers. And yes, It's safe to give dogs small amounts of honey. Start with a quarter teaspoon and do not, I repeat, Do not exceed one teaspoon per day. Wow, That was even faster than I could type the question out in a browser. Hi Roger, Thank you for that information. It's really helpful. I'll go get a dollop of honey for you, Harold. I'm growing some licorice root in my herb garden. That is also excellent for broken voices. I assume the same goes for barks, Right Roger? Scanning, Scanning, Yep, That's right. I prepare all of us some licorice root tea with a tiny bit of honey fresh from the garden. Harold laps it up from his bowl. We wait and watch to see if the remedy will work, And if so, Work immediately. Harold finishes every last drop of the remedy, Lifts his snout to bark, Opens his mouth, And nothing. Too bad voice boxes, Or I guess bark boxes, Aren't like robot vocal settings. I could just adjust them a little bit here and a little bit there, And bam, Voice fixed. Nonsense, Mr. Honeybee. That's exactly how it works. Uh, Roger, Remember how I was explaining that non-robots have brains and stuff? Our voices are attached to them in really complex ways, So. . . Roger Robot extends his mechanical arm to pat Harold's fluffy ears. He then scratches behind them and activates one of Harold's many tickle spots. Harold's leg starts going as if he's doing a hokey pokey dance, And Roger uses this distraction to subtly separate the fur at the base of Harold's neck for a sleight of hand trick that none of us are able to see the details of. Roger again pats his head and then stands back proud of himself. There we go. That should be it. We watch as Harold saunters over to his fluffy bed in the living room, Tired of us fawning over him and his bark. When he curls up, We see that he has a teeny tiny black box hanging off his collar. When Mr. Honeybee bends down to look at it, Harold lifts up his head and lets out the first sound of the day. Bark, Bark, Bark. Oh! Harold, Did you just say bark? Instead of barking? Oh, I guess I did. See? Told you it'd work. What are you talking about, Roger? Hmm. Harold, Can you hear yourself? You're talking. In human, Well, Human English. I always knew you were able to understand me. Oh, Wow. Listen to me go. Harold, You can talk. Say something else. Say something else. Want to play fetch with me? No, Because I just want to sit and hear you talk without having to translate from Doc. Yes, Of course we can play fetch, Harold. Yay. Together, With Harold and his new voice, We walk to the Pupple Park. This isn't just any walk to the park, Though. Now, We get to hear all of what we can assume Harold thinks on our regular walks. As we approach his favorite tree, You feel him pulling at the leash like usual. This is the tree he sniffs up and down, The one that we have to all but drag him away from. Now, On this walk, We hear firsthand just how important this tree is. My tree. There it is. There it is. There it is. My tree. As always, Harold circles around the tree trunk, Sniffing and tying his leash in knots. You follow him around and around, Trying to avoid leash tangles. He stops at a particular spot on the trunk and studies it with his nose. Buster says hi. You got that from the tree? Harold tunes us out and continues, Simply to report what the smells on the tree say. It might rain later this week. Really? Let me check the weather. It's so sunny out today. How could it? Wow. There's an 80% chance of rain later this week. How did the tree tell you that? Harold ignores all of our questions and reports one last thing from the tree. New friend at the dog park today. With that last message, Harold happily trots on his way to the dog park, Reportedly to meet a new friend. We walk beside him with an amazement that Roger Robot does not share in. Dogs use trees like humans use the internet. Want to update your family and friends about what you're doing? Post it. Dogs leave their sense behind to let other dogs know things. Even the weather? Especially the weather. Think about it. What's the number one predictor of whether or not you'll go for a walk as a dog? Besides being extra tired from an extra busy day? I guess it's the weather? Exactly. All that Harold needs to know about the state of the Honeybee neighborhood is on that tree. Wow. This is fascinating. Do they know anything about the stock market? Don't be preposterous, Mr. Honeybee. My very canine dog now has a human robot voice. This whole thing is preposterous. Okay. True. Enjoy your preposterousness then. When we get to the Pupple Park, Harold politely requests that we open the chain link fence for him. Before he rushes in like usual, He pauses pondering something that seems important. He turns to Roger, Full of hope. Can I have thumbs next? No thumbs, Please, Roger. He gets out enough as it is. Please. No thumbs. That's the only thing holding him back from taking over completely. With great power comes great responsibility, Harold. In my professional opinion, You're not quite ready for thumbs yet. You're just too excited. Fine. The dogs and the people that create the lovely atmosphere of the Pupple Park fill the air with joy as they laugh and play in the sunshine. Take another slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the coolness of the air coming in through your nose and the warmth of the sun on your skin. Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and join them for a game of fetch. There is indeed a new friend at the park today, Just like the tree reported. Harold walks up to the fancy poodle with more curls than she knows what to do with and introduces himself. Hi, I'm Harold. Want to be friends? The poodle agrees and they run off to the tree line where a group of kids are climbing. We just cannot believe what we're seeing and hearing. While we're enjoying the sunshine and the fresh air, Roger Robot tries his best to help us understand the technology that makes this possible. We all begin to zone him out like Harold did to us. In all of Roger's infinite knowledge, He is still somewhat unable to take a hint. There is nothing artificial about my intelligence. We know, Roger. Well, We don't know, But we trust that you do. Just lay back and enjoy the feel of the grass and the sunshine on your metal. . . If I want to increase my internal temperature, I could do it rather precisely with this dial right here. No, No, I like my internal temperature. I will stabilize it in the shade over there. BRB. TTYL, Roger. We watch Roger Robot roll away through the grass until he reaches a nearby tree. There, He powers down for a little snooze outdoors. Harold zips across our field of vision, Running along the field of tall grass that bends in the wind. He's chasing his new poodle friend and jumping over tree stumps whenever he can. In all of the commotion of his game, He wiggles in such a way as to dislodge his new voice box. It falls to the grass, Furiously blinking red and yellow lights in different patterns that signal an alarm. This is really something. So much so, It's a something that needs a name. This is revolutionary technology for pet families. What will it be called, My dear? The Doggie Decipherer. The first ever of its kind. Now we can always know what Harold's thinking? And other dogs. This is just a prototype. We spend the rest of the afternoon aiming the Doggie Decipherer at dogs in the Pupple Park. Beyond loving to play fetch, Something we learned from them is how much they love us, Their people and loved ones. Before we know it, We hear a familiar bark we've been waiting to hear all day. Harold's bark is fixed and is back, At least for now. Always remember, Mrs. Honeybee believes in you. You are special and you are loved. I can't wait to see you again. Bedtime with Mrs. Honeybee Today, In the Honeybee neighborhood, We'll be going on a fishing trip. Did you tell Mr. Honeybee yet? Nope, It's a surprise. Can you grab the fishing poles from the garage? Look at this fishing hat I found. How do I look? Can I wear it? That's Mr. Honeybee's old fishing hat. It has been on so many fishing trips. It's a little big, But it looks great on you, Melody Bee. Oops, Here comes Mr. Honeybee. Let's hide the fishing stuff for now. All you have to do is close your eyes, Get cozy, And listen to the sound of my voice. Mrs. Honeybee will be your guide. Let's begin. You are here, Strolling through a sunny day in the Honeybee neighborhood, Walking up the driveway to our house. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel your chest expand out round, Filled with fresh air. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and knock on the door. You wait to hear Harold on the other side, But this time the door opens very quickly. Hello, My little Honeybee. You're here just in time. I'll come outside so Mr. Honeybee doesn't hear us. Today, We are going to surprise Mr. Honeybee with one of his favorite things. He doesn't know it yet, But we're going fishing, All of us, Out on a little boat on the Honey River. It's going to be so much fun. Mr. Honeybee may not have heard us, But our fluffy friend Harold sure did. We can't get anything by him. I open the door for him and Melodybee along with him. Hello, Little Honeybee. It's so nice to see you on such a special day. Did Mrs. Honeybee fill you in on the surprise? Yes, I just did. I can't wait to see his face. He's not expecting it at all. And he just said yesterday that he hasn't gone fishing in a long time. I could hardly keep myself from spilling the beans, But I didn't. Phew, That's good because this is going to be a great surprise. I gathered his fishing rods and his tackle box. I think that's all we need, Right? What about a boat? Do we need a boat? Oh yes, I have that too. You know the beavers from the hardware store? Of course. Well, They built us a little boat that we can keep on a special dock on the Honey River. Mr. Honeybee will be able to use it whenever he wants. You've outdone yourself, Mrs. Honeybee. Oh, Oh, Here he comes. Oh, We need to spill these beans already. The surprise is too good. Oh, Hello, My little Honeybee. Why don't you all come inside? Is something wrong? No, Something is not wrong. Everything is so great, Mr. Honeybee. You don't even know. Okay, What are you all up to? Nothing. Well, It's certainly something, And it must be a good something with how much Melody Bee is wiggling and giggling. I can't help it. I love surprises. Melody Bee. Who's getting a surprise? Well, My dear, We are actually up to something, And it's you. You're getting the surprise, Mr. Honeybee. Oh, That felt good. I'm getting the surprise? Well, What's the surprise? It's a surprise in two parts. The first is already packed up in the car. Go take a look at what we'll need for our adventure today. Hmm, Let's see what this surprise is. Mr. Honeybee walks over to the car and peeks into the back window where he sees all his fishing gear neatly packed up. He turns toward us with a huge smile. Are we going fishing? Yes, We are, My dear, And there's more. We all hop in the car and drive the short way down to the banks of the Honey River where the second part of Mr. Honeybee's surprise is waiting on the water. Carrying all of our fishing gear, We walk through the forest to the dock. Right foot, Left foot, Right foot, Left foot. When we get to the dock, Mr. Honeybee notices the boat that wasn't here the last time. He drops his gear to go check it out. It's a little boat, But the perfect size for us to enjoy days out on the river fishing. Whoa, Look at this. Wow, This is cool. Look at the craftsmanship. Whoever's boat this is, Is a lucky duck. Dear, I think we should get a boat. Don't you think that'd be fun? Oh, That's a good idea, Mr. Honeybee. I think that would be so much fun. So much fun that I think we should get a boat today. Today? Hmm. Okay, Maybe we can stop at the hardware store and talk to the beavers about making a custom one. Actually, I really like this one. Can you take a picture for them? I want to show them. Oh my goodness, I cannot take it. Mr. Honeybee, This is your boat. What? This is ours? It sure is. This is the second part of the surprise? Oh my goodness, You all got me good. I had no idea. Mr. Honeybee can barely contain his excitement. He is so grateful for this special surprise. And now he gets to do his favorite thing with his favorite people in his new boat. We climb aboard the little boat that wobbles a bit as we walk on. But once we get settled, The smoothness of the calm water steadies us. Mr. Honeybee lifts up the anchor and pushes off down the Honey River in search of the perfect fishing spot. Harold has his paws up on the side and is peering down into the water in search of his first fish. You sit next to him to make sure he doesn't jump right in after the first fish he sees. Mr. Honeybee rows us down the river as we relax in the sunshine. Take another slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel your chest and your spirits lift. Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and let yourself feel heavy on the water as we float. Harold catches a glimpse of his first fish and growls. I join you next to Harold to help hold him too because he loves to jump into the river after fish. Even with both of us holding Harold, He leaps from our grasp at the next fish he sees and lands with a splash in the water. Mr. Honeybee stops the boat so we can dive in after Harold. But before we can, He's already paddled back to the boat carrying his first fish in his mouth. Just as quickly as Harold caught the fish, He lost the fish and it swam away. We lift him back into the boat and wrap him up in a little towel to keep him occupied. Well, That's a good sign, I guess. The fish are biting here. Mr. Honeybee puts down the anchor so we can stay put at this perfect spot. There are some trees hanging over the river, But mostly we are out in the bright sunshine soaking it in. Looking all around us, All we can see are trees and sparkling water. It's a beautiful day in a beautiful place. Mr. Honeybee gets his tackle box out and all the fishing rods and begins showing us how to fish step by step. Harold also offers us his own method of fishing, But we decide to stick with Mr. Honeybee's for now. You get your own fishing rod and look through all the different baits that he has in the tackle box. Suddenly, A big blue fish hurls itself out of the water and back in. Luckily, Harold has already snuggled up in his cozy towel to notice. You look down and see that this spot is full of fish, Even flying fish apparently. This is a great spot to learn how to fish from the best fishermen this side of the Honey River. The key to fishing is placement and patience. You got to put yourself in a good spot, Then have the patience to wait for the right fish. Mr. Honeybee helps you bait the fishing line, Then we take his advice and calm ourselves from the inside out so we can practice patience. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Bring your awareness to the sensation of your heart beating once, Twice, Three times. Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth, But keep your awareness on your heartbeat, Which will set the pace for this slow, Relaxing day in the sunshine. Mr. Honeybee then shows us how to cast the fishing line out far into the water, But not too far. Together, Me, You, And Melody Bee pull back the fishing rod, Then cast it out into the river. The hooks land in the water with little plops, And we're all set. Now we do the best part. What's the best part of fishing, Mr. Honeybee? Melody Bee asks, Struggling to flutter and holding her fishing rod. Eventually, She decides to sit and hold it down with her whole body by laying on it. That finally worked. The best part is this, Right here. First, You gotta get comfy. Melody Bee is already comfy using her entire body weight to hold the fishing rod down, But you and I situate ourselves on the boat to make sure we are nice and cozy. Then you recline like this, Just enough to feel the sunshine on your face. Taking Mr. Honeybee's direction, We lean back in our cozy spots until we feel the sunshine on our faces. Then you do this. Watch carefully now. Mr. Honeybee then pulls his hat down over his eyes and promptly falls asleep in the sunshine. And that's when we find out how Mr. Honeybee can be so patient while fishing. We have no choice but to learn from the best, So we grab our fishing hats from the box, Put them on our heads, And pull Grimms down over our eyes. Now all we have to do is the best part. Always remember, Mrs. Honeybee believes in you. You are special and you are loved. I can't wait to see you again. Today, In the Honeybee neighborhood, We'll be trying to break a world record. Melody Bee, Pass me that hammer please. Sure, Mr. Honeybee. Why is the hammer so heavy? Sorry, Melody Bee. If we're going to be building the world's biggest water slide, We're going to need the biggest tools we can find. I can't wait to see how high the water slide will go. Wow, The world's tallest water slide. You can ride down on my lap, Harold. All you have to do is close your eyes, Get cozy, And listen to the sound of my voice. Mrs. Honeybee will be your guide. Let's begin. You are here, Rounding the last corner before you get to our house, Walking as fast as you comfortably can in flip-flops because you're so excited for today. Right foot, Left foot, Right foot, Left foot. Your sandals flip and flop with each step that brings you closer and closer to the highly anticipated Honeybee neighborhood pool party. As you continue on toward our house, You look at the sparkling sunshine that reflects off the windows. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the coolness of the air coming in through your nose and finding its way to your lungs. Hold your breath in for a moment then use your strong belly muscles to breathe all the way out through your mouth and completely empty your lungs. The clay tile roof seems even brighter in the bright sunshine. When you look closer, Though, You see something strange poking its head above the rooftop into the almost perfectly clear blue sky. At first, You see what looks like the top rung of a metal ladder waving side to side, Peeking above the roof. Then you see someone much more familiar. It's Mr. Honeybee climbing up to the top rung of a ladder that's somehow standing straight up into the blue sky. You can hear him hammering away at something, Busily working. You call out to him and get his attention. When he turns back to look in your direction, He and his precariously balanced ladder wiggle a bit. Whoa, Whoa, Whoa, Whoa. Oh, Hi, My little Honeybee. Come on back. Worried about the safety of what Mr. Honeybee seems to be doing, Without immediately understanding a reason why he's doing it, You run to the backyard gate, Open it, And meet Mrs. Honeybee, Melodybee, And Harold standing around the base of the ladder, Just as concerned as you are. Melodybee buzzes up to see him at the top of the first ladder and beginning to pull up a second ladder. Buzz, Buzz, Buzz. Mr. Honeybee, What are you doing all the way up here? Can we help? Sure. Can you help me pull this second ladder up to here? Mrs. Honeybee, Can you push it up to us from down there? Mm, I can. But first, Tell me why, My dear. This doesn't seem too safe. We're achieving greatness here today. Today. Today, We are building the world's longest water slide. And just in time for the pool party. Mr. Honeybee delightfully pulls the ladder all the way up so the feet beneath the bottom rung perfectly line up with the ladder below. Then, From his tool belt, He pulls out all the supplies he'll need for this gargantuan feat. First, His welding helmet, Which Melodybee also gets since she's nearby. They both put them on before Mr. Honeybee gets his torch and brazing rod. He's going to bond the two ladders with the brazing method to keep them stable. Down at the ground, The most important place to be at this moment, We stabilize the ladder so it doesn't sway in the wind that picks up. Harold brings us our welding helmets just in case sparks fly. Everyone have their helmets on? We do down here, My dear. Consider me helmeted. With our helmets on, Mr. Honeybee gets right to work. The metal feet of the ladders glow a brilliant reddish-orange, Like a second sun as they melt just slightly to connect to one another. Sparks fly all around like fireworks, And the warm, Gentle breeze extinguishes them in midair. Just above Mr. Honeybee, A single puffy cloud hangs. He looks up to the cloud, Then back down at the brazing continuously. When the first two ladders are connected, Mr. Honeybee calls for another ladder. Mr. Honeybee, Where should I tell them your other ladders are? Don't worry about it, Melody Bee. We got it handled. I hope you're not assuming I know what you're talking about. No, No. Just wait and see. Take another slow, Deep breath in through your nose in anticipation. Feel your chest and your spirits lift as you embark on the skyward journey. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and look to the fence that backs up to the forest. There, Walking over the hill and through the woods, You see what looks like a miniature, Furry army of helpful helpers. It's the hardware store beavers. The same ones that helped us build our backyard treehouse are on their way to see us, With rows and rows of ladders and scaffolding and all the materials Mr. Honeybee could need to build the world's tallest water slide. Hello, Fellas. It's so nice to see you today, Especially under such short notice. The helpful army of beavers come in through the back gate and flood the backyard, Eagerly waiting to help us with our endeavor. A group of them take over for us down on the ground so we can climb up to join Mr. Honeybee and Melody Bee at the top of the ladder. Even Harold comes with us, Climbing each rung carefully. Right hand, Left hand, Right foot, Left foot. On our way up, We help hoist the third and fourth and even fifth ladders past us up to Mr. Honeybee. A big group of the hardware store beavers chop down some spare lumber to stabilize the ladder so it can keep growing taller and taller. Then around that ladder, Which Mr. Honeybee is brazing, They build the ladder that will be for the water slide. Another group of beavers have assembled a few blocks over where the water slide will actually end, Where we will splash into a nearby pool and kick off the neighborhood-wide pool party. The group of ladder beavers start following us up, Quickly building out the water slide ladder. The higher we climb, The more we can see out over the Honeybee neighborhood. From here, You can see the glittering pool where the water slide will end, And you will also see that an elite few of the hardware store beavers are climbing the tallest tree in the forest. You watch carefully as those elite few get to the very top and launch off of it above Mr. Honeybee. They have colorful parachutes that open just in time for them to float slowly down from the sky, Building a pathway above Mr. Honeybee to guide him. Mr. Honeybee, How tall does the tallest water slide have to be to be the tallest? Great question, Melody Bee. In other words, My dear, When can we get to sliding? Hear me out on this, Everyone. No water slide in the whole world has ever gotten to a cloud, So that's where we're going. Mr. Honeybee points confidently to a nearby cluster of clouds that have blown through on the warm breeze. I didn't think there would be any clouds today, But as soon as I saw enough in the sky, I just knew today was the day. We're almost there, Team. Almost there. The busy beavers work efficiently to build out the ladder and the slide. And if all goes as planned, We will meet at the very top, Just above the clouds that have gathered like a little blanket right above the water slide we're building. We put our heads down and continue our work, Focused on the end goal we will achieve as a team. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the space this big breath makes between your ribs and try to make just a little bit more room. Then, As slowly as you can, Breathe all the way out through your mouth, Careful not to blow away any of the much-needed clouds. Before we know it, We look up to see that Mr. Honeybee and the parachuting beavers have disappeared into the cloud above. Our hearts beat noticeably faster for the few moments we can't see them. And when Mr. Honeybee peeks his head out above the clouds, We rejoice. We did it. We built the world's tallest water slide. We make such a great team. The sky isn't even the limit for us. Yay! This is going to be so much fun. Oh, But wait. If this is a water slide, How are we going to get the water up here to slide down with? I'm so glad you asked. Watch. We finish climbing up the stack of ladders, Rung by rung, Until we get to the platform at the top. Then we watch as Mr. Honeybee and the handful of beavers grab puffs of clouds and wring them out like dish towels. A geyser of water flows down the slide, Winding all the way down before splashing into the pool. You watch in amazement, Knowing that you're going to be splashing next. As always, Mr. Honeybee wants to test it out before anyone else to make sure it's perfectly safe. Melody Bee flutters along with one of the parachuting beavers to make sure he's as safe as can be. Mr. Honeybee gives us careful instructions for how to use the lightning bolt to help slide even faster. Melody Bee suits up with the parachute as Mr. Honeybee gathers more of the cloud to be a wrap. Then, On the count of three, Two, One, He pushes off down, Down, Down the water slide. He slides with his hands up, Smiling from ear to ear all the way. When he's gotten far enough away, We reach up to grab a lightning bolt, Just like he showed us, And supercharge his slide. At the bottom of the world's tallest water slide, Mr. Honeybee splashes into the pool, And all the neighbors cheer for a job well done. More and more people gather below us, Anxious to try for themselves. We are up next, My little Honeybee. Are you ready to slide down the world's longest water slide? Together, We reach to the puffy clouds to gather ourselves up a raft and to make sure the water slide is plenty hydrated. Take your slowest, Deepest breath in through your nose. Feel your chest and your spirits lift as we jump up onto the soft, Puffy cloud raft with Harold. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth as we push ourselves off to slide down, Down, Down. We are going so fast, Holding on to the edges of the cloud as we slide up the sides back and forth, Gaining momentum and speed as we whoosh by, Feeling as though we're flying. The beavers still up at the top of the water slide platform think we need to go a tad bit faster. They aim the next lightning bolt right towards us, And we zoom even faster down the winding slides, Twists and turns. Our hands are up in the air like you're on a roller coaster. Harold's eyes squint and his floppy ears fly back with a rush of wind that blows against our cheeks. As we near the bottom of the slide, We see all our friends, Including Mr. Honey Bee and Melody Bee, And all of our neighbors. We plug our noses as we approach, Then splash deep into the pool. Harold shows us how to doggie paddle up to the steps, And we pull ourselves up out of the water and into the sunshine. Now we look up to the water slide ladder we just built and see a long line of neighbors politely waiting their turn. This is how we kick off the Honey Bee Neighborhood Pool Party. We splash the day away, Taking turns cannonballing into the pool and enjoying all the delicious food that is on the barbecue. You pick out your favorite color inner tube and steady it on the surface of the water before you jump in. We all spend the rest of the afternoon swimming and floating in the sunshine, Splashing ourselves every so often with the cool, Refreshing water. There's no better way to spend a day like this than smiling and having fun with the ones we love. You watch for the neighbors to come down the slide one by one and eagerly jump out of the pool when the line dwindles to slide down again, But this time faster. Always remember, Mrs. Honey Bee believes in you. You are special and you are loved. I can't wait to see you again. Bedtime with Mrs. Honey Bee Today in the Honey Bee Neighborhood, We'll visit the Honey Bee Stables to meet a very special new friend that just arrived. Have you ever seen a unicorn before? Whoa, You didn't tell me we were meeting a unicorn today, My dear. Yes, I wanted it to be a surprise for Melody Bee. You know that she loves meeting new animals. Buzz, Buzz, Buzz. You wanted what to be a surprise, Mrs. Honey Bee? Hmm, Well, Remember last week you were telling me about your favorite mythical creature? Yeah, A unicorn, Of course. The most beautiful of all mythical creatures. You know they say unicorns have magic in their forehead stinger. Do you mean their unicorn horn, Melody Bee? Tomato, Tomato. Alright, My dear. The saddles are in the car. Oh, Melody Bee, I hope I didn't ruin the surprise. What's the surprise? What's the surprise? Well, You'll see. Oh my goodness, Are we going to meet a real unicorn? How exciting! All you have to do is close your eyes, Get cozy, And listen to the sound of my voice. Mrs. Honey Bee will be your guide. Let's begin. You are here, Driving up to our house in the Honey Bee neighborhood golf cart. The sun is shining down on today, Warming your skin and bringing a smile to your face. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the coolness of the air coming in through your nose as your chest expands. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and use your strong belly muscles to completely empty your lungs as the golf cart engine revs. You arrive at our driveway just as I come out of the house holding a bale of hay in my arms with Harold trotting happily at my feet. Hello, My little Honey Bee. I'm so happy to see you and that you decided to bring the golf cart today. We can stack the bales of hay in the back. Mr. Honey Bee comes out of the backyard carrying three bales of hay that are stacked high enough for him to not be able to see where he's going. Melody Bee attempts to help him navigate over her own pile of hay, Stacked too high. Do I go this way? Where's the step? I know there's a step around here somewhere. Melody Bee, Am I going to trip? No, I think you're in the clear, Mr. Honey Bee. The step is coming up. Wait, Wait, Slow down. Is it right here? Is our little Honey Bee here yet? Ah, I got hit. Oh no. Should we go help them, My little Honey Bee? Oh no, Here, Here, Let me help. I'm turning around. Don't fly into me. Or try not to. Can you see me walking towards you? Stack your hay on my hay. Just don't sneeze. All the hay they were carrying falls to the ground with Melody Bee's sneeze and we get to them just in time to help. We rebale the hay and stack it on the back of the golf cart because we're on our way to the stables. Today, We will learn to ride horses. We all hop into the golf cart and take off through the forest to the stables nearby. When we arrive, We are met with friendly horses who walk right up to us in search of treats and fresh hay. We grab big handfuls of hay to feed them as more and more gallop towards us. Soon, We are surrounded by too many horses that the owner of the stable calls them all back to give us some room to park. The horses are just as excited to meet us as we are to meet them. We walk along all the stables with happy horses happily tucked away inside and wonder which horse will each ride. There are big horses called Clydesdales and little horses that aren't horses at all. We pet each of them gently on their long noses and walk up to the wooden set of stairs that will help us get on the horses. You and I go first, Walking up the four steps together, Right foot, Left foot, Right foot, Left foot, Until we get to the top. Then the riding instructor brings over our horses, Two beautiful gray ones with flowing yellow manes. They are so friendly. You step up to the side of the stair platform and your horse comes right up to you, Nuzzling you with her nose. As you hop on, The instructor introduces your horse as Mindy. You and Mindy happily trot away from the platform and my horse walks up behind you. I'm wearing Harold in a little doggy backpack so he can join us for horseback riding. We hop onto my horse, Whose name is Marnie, And we trot up next to you. Mr. Honeybee and Melody Bee are next. Their horses are both brown and white, Spotted like cows with black manes. The instructor is hesitant for a bee to ride a horse, But Mr. Honeybee and Melody Bee ease his concerns. Don't worry about it too much, Instructor. Our Melody Bee has proven to be a proficient rider. I don't know if you've heard, Instructor. I don't want to toot my own horn or anything, But bee-effer to ride a bike. I eventually learn how to balance and pedal and everything, So it's only natural I ride a horse next. And she looks perfect for me. What's her name? The riding instructor chuckles to himself, Then goes on to explain that Melody Bee's horse is also named Melody. The two Melodies, Both bee and horse, Trot up to join us, Giggling on their way. Mr. Honeybee hops onto his horse, Named Missy, And together we set off on a horseback ride, Following the instructor on his huge brown Clydesdale horse with clopping hooves that move ever so slowly. We learn how to trot, Then gallop, And then we even learn how to jump the horses over hurdles that are strategically placed along the dirt path. Our friendly horses and instructor lead us through rolling green hills with grass that lightly sways in the breeze. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel your chest and your spirits lift, Riding free through this beautiful landscape. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and let yourself feel weightless, Freed of all burdens and worries. Your horse carries you effortlessly up and down the hills, So happy to spend this special time with you. We have so much fun, But quickly learn that a new difficulty is upon us, With not one, But two Melodies. When the riding instructor calls out to Melody, Both the horse and the bee respond. Wow, Look at Melody go! Aww, Thank you, Mr. Honeybee. Oh, I meant the horse Melody. Oh, I totally knew that. Totally. I guess we should call her Melody Horse. Well, In that case, Melody Horse, You are doing a fantastic job clearing those hurdles. And Melody Bee, The other bees will never be able to keep up. You ride bikes, Horses, What's next? Melody's Use When we come back to the stables and get down off our horses, The riding instructor gives us armfuls of orange carrots to feed everyone with, And one single bundle of rainbow-colored carrots. When we ask what this special colorful bundle is for, He explains that they just got a new horse recently, But she's been too timid to come out. She only eats rainbow carrots, Because she's a very, Very special horse. With minds full of curiosity and arms full of carrots with their green tops still on, We walk over to the stables to give out the treats and see if we can meet this new, Timid horse. Why do you think the new horse is so timid? Hmm, I don't know, Melody Bee. All horses have their reasons for being shy. We just love them for who they are without needing to know why. I think I see her over there in the corner at the back of the far stable. Wow, She shimmers. Do you see that? Wow, I see her. We give Mindy, Marnie, Melody, And Missy their fill of carrots, And they happily chomp them. Since we have so many leftover carrots, We stroll along the front of the stables, Where other horses we haven't yet met hang their heads over the bars for treats. Hay rustles beneath our footsteps as we walk through the long rows of stables inside this farm. You hold the last batch of rainbow-colored carrots reserved especially for the timid horse who wants her space for now. Without challenging her unnecessarily or making her do anything she doesn't want to do, You quietly walk up to the front of her stable and place a couple purple and yellow carrots with their tops on the ground on top of a fresh pillow of hay. When we round the corner behind you, That's when we all see that this new horse isn't just any horse. She's a unicorn. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Quiet yourself both inside and out so as not to scare our new friend. Then, Slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and softly smile to let her know that you are a friend and are here to simply enjoy her company among the other horses. There's a blank sign hanging over her stable that tells us she doesn't yet have a name. This is the most precious unicorn you've ever seen with a glittering mane that's sparkled in the dappled sunshine and fur the color of rainbows. Her big eyes shine as she tries to hide behind a wood post in her stable. It's no wonder why she exclusively eats rainbow carrots. Her coat is made up of rainbows. She is clearly very shy but also very sweet. It's as if she knows how friendly you are because she lifts her head with the tiniest bit of confidence at first and slowly takes a couple steps towards us. You gently hold out the other rainbow carrots and she immediately perks up, Even more curious. After she checks us out a bit more to make sure we're as friendly as we seem, She walks directly up to you and takes the carrot right out of your hand. When she's close up like this, Melody B realizes what makes a unicorn a very special horse. But why is there a stinger on her forehead? Well, A forehead stinger? This is one interesting horse, B. Melody B, She's a unicorn and that's her horn. See how it swirls? Whoa, I bet nobody tries to steal her pollen. Our new unicorn friend chomps away at all the rainbow carrots until she finishes the whole bundle. As we say our goodbyes and turn to leave, She flies over the stable fence and begins to follow us. Hey, Are you going to come home with us, Friend? Please, Of course, Be my guest. I've always wanted a unicorn. Is she going to come home with us? Hmm, I don't think there's much you can allow or not allow a unicorn to do. She's flying to our house. The riding instructor is more than happy that his newest addition has already found a loving home with us. He gives us all the glitter, Rainbow carrots, Warm coats, And unicorn shoes she'll need. We hop back into the golf cart and head back home to meet our new unicorn. When we get there, She has already scoped out the backyard, Nibbled on some rainbow carrots that Melody B has growing in the garden, And laid down in the spot where she requests the unicorn stable be built. Mr. Honeybee quickly gets to work on her stable that is big enough and has enough room for her to do some flying when she wants, While still being able to stay out of the weather. Well, My dear, You finally got your unicorn. I sure did, And it wouldn't have happened without your sweet demeanor, My little Honeybee. You won over her trust instantly. I know our unicorn is going to be so, So happy here. But wait, We're missing one thing. What's that, Mrs. Honeybee? I can have more rainbow carrots on the way in no time. She'll never run out. That's perfect, Melody B, But she doesn't have a name. Can you help us name our new unicorn, My little Honeybee? Send me a message with your best unicorn name. And just like that, Our Honeybee family grew by one sparkling member. Had we judged a book by her timid cover, We would never have known the warmth and charisma of this unique creature. And there's still, Of course, So much to learn about her. I'm excited to see what other friends we meet along the way. My little Honeybee, Life is so much more fun with you in it. Always remember, Mrs. Honeybee believes in you. You are special and you are loved. I can't wait to see you again. Bedtime with Mrs. Honeybee Today, In the Honeybee neighborhood, We'll be giving Harold a very special gift, A brand new water bowl. He's kind of outgrown his old bowl, And now a brand new, Bigger water bowl with his name engraved on the side. I don't think Harold can read, But I know he's going to love it. Where are you going to put it? Let's hide it over here. Quick, He's coming down the stairs. Come here, Harold, You good boy. Let's go sit down on the porch. Yes, Harold, Melody Bee can come too. Right behind you, Harold. I can't wait until he sees his new water bowl. Mr. Honeybee, Give me the signal when it's all set up. All you have to do is close your eyes, Get cozy, And listen to the sound of my voice. Mrs. Honeybee will be your guide. Let's begin. You are here, Walking the last few steps up our driveway to the front door. It's a relief to get out of the heavy rain under the roof of the porch. As you shake out and close your umbrella, You knock on the door. You take your soaking wet rain boots off, One by one, And notice a package hidden behind one of the plants as you set them out to dry. When you pick it up, You see that it's addressed to Mr. Honeybee, And that's exactly who answers the door. Hello, My little Honeybee. It is so nice to see you. I hope you're enjoying your day so far, Because I am not having the best day today. Just look at my shoes. They're soaked, And I wasn't even out in the rain. Why, Hello there, My little Honeybee. Thank you so much for trekking all the way to us through this awful weather. It just has not stopped. Melody Bee, Harold, Our little Honeybee is here. Hello, Little Mr. Honeybee. Did you have another run-in with Harold's water bowl? I sure did. It's not your fault, Boy. It was just an accident. I'm frustrated at the situation, Not at you, Harold. You're a good boy. Dear, Are you going to leave your shoes out here to dry? I'll have to. And my socks, Too. Let me check the tag. Maybe we can throw them in the dryer to dry them faster. I think that should work, And they'll be nice and warm when they're done. Now that sounds nice. Little Honeybee, What do you have in your hand? Oh, That must be your new shoes, My dear. And just in time. Phew, That's a relief. I'll put them to use right away. Come on, Let's get out of the cold. We head inside for Mr. Honeybee to unbox his new shoes and to toss his old ones in the dryer. While Mr. Honeybee is in the laundry room, Melody Bee and I take a quick moment to fill you in on what happened right before you came. So, For whatever reason, Our furry friend Harold all of a sudden likes to move his water bowl around. He pushes it with his nose and thinks it's just the best game ever. It's so silly, But… Mr. Honeybee didn't notice that Harold had nosed his bowl at the base of the stairs when he came down this morning. He stepped right in the bowl, Slipped, Spilled the water everywhere, And his shoes have been squishy ever since. He cannot stand it, So he's been a little grumpy, But it's understandable. But it's a moot point now because we have these new shoes that just arrived. Yes! I have never been more happy to get a package in my life. Sitting at the kitchen table, Mr. Honeybee excitedly opens his package and marvels at his brand new shoes, Which slip over his toes with ease. We are all seated around the table, Half chatting and half watching to see how much he loves his shoes. Trouble comes, Though, When Mr. Honeybee tries to get the rest of his foot in a shoe that is clearly too small. He tries once more, Hoping that was just a fluke, But it proved not to be. With no choice but to accept the situation at hand, Mr. Honeybee sighs and leaves us at the table while he goes upstairs to put on his fuzzy wool slippers. That's too bad these don't fit. We'll have to send these back, But I'm sure the right size will come in no time. I sure hope so. We busy ourselves with catching up and chatting about how your day is going, And we don't notice that our furry little friend Harold is back to playing his new favorite game. Harold takes a couple licks of water, Then pushes his bowl all around the kitchen. Luckily, You notice it in time and put the bowl back out of the way. We head to the laundry room to check on the shoes. Melody Bee also shows us the lavender essential oil she made. Now each load of laundry, Especially the bed linens, Will smell like a fresh spring day. Here, Smell. It was handmade by yours truly. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. The sweet, Flowery scent of lavender relaxes you as you imagine a flower field in bloom. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and open the dryer door to check on the shoes. They're still a bit soggy, So we turn it on high and head back to the kitchen. Before we get there, We hear it. We arrive in the kitchen to see Mr. Honey Bee with one wool slipper stepped into Harold's water bowl that once again ended up at the bottom of the stairs. Mr. Honey Bee walks sloshing, Squishy steps to the dryer with his head hung. Those are his favorite slippers and the others were his favorite shoes. Now he doesn't have anything to wear on his feet on this chilly day. He walks back from the laundry room with bare feet and pets Harold on the head to remind him that it's the situation he's frustrated at and not him. Harold promises to not move his water bowl again and tells us how much fun he has playing that game, That he loses track of everything else. You know what? I can do something about this to make sure it never happens again. I'm bolting that bowl to the floor. I have everything I need in the garage. I'll make Harold a little stand to put his water bowl in. That will keep it steady. Excited, Mr. Honey Bee rushes out to the garage. A little too quickly. His bare feet managed to find a puddle that none of ours did, Leftover from one of Harold's previous games. Mr. Honey Bee slips and slides and crashes onto the kitchen floor. We hurry to help him up and he limps the rest of the way out to the garage where he tinkers with his newest invention in peace. Poor Mr. Honey Bee. I wish there was something else we could do. Hmm. I think there just might be. Oh, That's your I've got a plan face, Mrs. Honey Bee. What are you thinking? Remember all those sponges you accidentally bought? Remember? How could I forget? They haunt me. I didn't check the units when I bought them online. And instead of ordering three sponges, I ordered three pallets of sponges. But yes, I remember. And I'm slowly learning all the things I can possibly do with sponges. Well, I think I have one more use for them. We're going to prototype the first ever pair of sponge flops. Sponge flops? Yes, Exactly. No, Not exactly. What do you mean, Mrs. Honey Bee? We can sew together some of those sponges to go around Mr. Honey Bee's shoes. So if he ever does accidentally step in Harold's water bowl. Looking at you, Little guy. No more playing with your water bowl. Okay? Well, Even if it does happen, The sponge flops will soak it all up and we'll make them double layered. So the first layer will, Well, Sponge it up. And the second layer is just extra. That's a great idea. I'll go get some sponges. We get right to work measuring out the sponges and forming them into shoe shapes. When they're big and puffy enough, We sew them all together and make enough alternate pairs so we can all have them. You never know when sponge flops could come in handy to avoid the much dreaded squishy shoe. We finish our prototypes just as Mr. Honey Bee comes back in from the garage, Triumphant and proud to show us the water bowl stand he built. Mr. Honey Bee picks up Harold's bowl, Fills it up in the sink, And places the bowl carefully in the stand, Then stands back to observe. It's a little higher than he anticipated, But that's exactly what the observation phase is for in experimentation. Every good tinkerer knows that. Harold saunters over to the water bowl that stands much higher than it used to and cautiously sniffs it. It's a bit too high for him to drink from it, So he stands up on his back paws and leans in to rest his front two paws on the side of the metal bowl. That's just enough weight to tip and then fling the bowl over the side of the stand. As it goes spinning through the air, Water splashes everywhere, And as he tries to avoid it, Mr. Honey Bee slips and falls once again. Both him and the bowl crash to the kitchen floor once again. Welp, At least the stand didn't budge. By now, The absurdity of the situation has calmed his frustration and he laughs out loud as we help him back up. This may not have been the outcome that Mr. Honey Bee was hoping for, But all of our preparation with the sponges gracefully meets this opportunity to help him when he needs it most. Mr. Honey Bee, While you were working on your prototype in the garage, We were in here working on one of our own. Really? How'd it go? Well, We'll need you to say for sure. Me? Yep. I think you've taken your last squishy step, My dear. I can only hope. Ha ha ha. We carefully navigate around the huge puddle that's formed and pull out a chair for Mr. Honey Bee. Just as he sits down, The dryer dings to let us know his shoes should be ready. Melody Bee buzzes over to pull them out of the dryer, Still nice and toasty for Mr. Honey Bee's tootsies. We make sure the sponges are secured to his shoes and completely surround them without any trace of shoe visible. With his shoes tucked in, Mr. Honey Bee takes his first step. They actually work! Mr. Honey Bee happily sponges up all the water that was accidentally spilled and does an extra lap around the kitchen to make sure he didn't miss any. Not only did he not slip or soak his shoes, But the kitchen floor looks sparkly and brand new. We try ours on, Too, And chase each other around the kitchen and up and down the hardwood stairs, Tidying up and having a blast. That's when you make your way over to the kitchen sink and catch a peek outside to see that it stopped raining and the sun has come out. As we head out the front door to the sidewalk that is muddled with puddles, Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel your chest and your spirits lift, Having made Mr. Honey Bee's day so much better. Then, Slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and take the first hop into a puddle. These puddles do not stand a chance against our sponge flops. Melody Bee takes the next plunge into the deepest puddle she can find. It splashes a little, But mostly the sponges soak up all the rainwater and leave her socks feeling toasty and dry. Even Harold has sponge flops on and joyfully bounces around without the worry of wet fur. The sun peeks out from behind the clouds again, Just long enough to send a warm ray of sunshine down to us, Which dries out our sponges for more puddle jumping. You know what this means, Everyone? No more squishy shoes? Ever? Yes, But no. We can make about 3, 000 more pairs of these without running out of sponges? Also yes, But also no. Yes, Harold, You can play your water bowl games again, But no. Now, Because of these sponge flops, We never need to mop again. That's true. You know, One frustrating day could lead to a whole new invention. Wait, Is that how all inventions were invented? What is a frustration today becomes an innovation tomorrow. Oh, I love that one, Dear. Write that down, Write that down. What else frustrates us? We need an innovation for tomorrow. If it's true that today's frustration becomes tomorrow's innovation, What can you do or create today that will help you tomorrow, My little honey bee? Your future self will be so grateful. Always remember, Mrs. Honey Bee believes in you. You are special and you are loved. I can't wait to see you again. Bedtime with Mrs. Honey Bee Today in the Honey Bee neighborhood, We'll help out our beloved ice cream truck driver when she runs into some trouble. Did you say ice cream? I love ice cream. Maybe I'll get double Rocky Road or triple dip chocolate or maybe even quadruple dip chocolate. She'll be coming by this afternoon. You've got plenty of time to choose, Melody Bee. I'll be getting my favorite, Pistachio ice cream. Of all the choices and all the flavors, You're going to get pistachio? You do know they have quadruple dip chocolate, Right? Well, Maybe today I'll try something new. All you have to do is close your eyes, Get cozy and listen to the sound of my voice. Mrs. Honey Bee will be your guide. Let's begin. You are here in the Honey Bee neighborhood, Walking up our driveway to knock on the front door. The sun is shining down on you, And today the delightful tune of an ice cream truck fills the air and travels to your ears on the warm breeze. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the coolness of the air coming in through your nose and finding its way to your lungs. Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and turn to watch as the ice cream truck rolls slowly by you in front of our house. When you look back, You see that the ice cream truck has a specific pitch that calls out to Melody Bee and Harold before anyone else. They burst through the front door, Rushing and falling over themselves and each other to get out to the ice cream truck in time. Oh, The ice cream truck is here. It's been so long, Like two weeks. No, Closer to a billion years, Which is way too long. Melody Bee and Harold are so happy to see you, Like always. They shout inside through the front door that was left open for us to come out. Mr. Honey Bee and I come outside to see you and to get some ice cream. Hello, My little Honey Bee. It's the perfect day for ice cream, Isn't it? It sure is. Hmm, Hey there. Is your truck okay? It sounds like it needs a bit of a boost. The ice cream truck driver explains that she just repaired it before she left the ice cream shop, But her old truck is on its last axle and might need to retire. She was hoping it would keep going for one last summer. Mr. Honey Bee offers to take a look at the engine just for a second pair of eyes. He tells her of his vast experience repairing golf carts, Cars, Bikes, And even magical carpets. He's worked with all sorts of engines. The ice cream truck driver is thrilled to have the help, And she climbs out to open the hood. While they're doing that, We look through all the delicious options and study the pictures carefully to make the best choice. This is a very important decision, After all. My little Honey Bee, Which is your favorite ice cream treat? They all look so good. I don't know how we're supposed to decide. I think I'm going to get a snow cone. I love ice cream. What's your favorite, Mrs. Honey Bee? Hmm. I think I'll have an ice cream sandwich. Those are our favorites, Huh, Harold? He always tries to sneak a lick of vanilla ice cream from the wrappers. You might just get one this time, Boy. We make our selections and quickly unwrap to enjoy before they melt in the warm sun. A line of neighbors forms behind us, So the ice cream truck driver rushes back into her truck and does what she does best, Sell ice cream. She can hardly keep up with the line, So while Mr. Honey Bee busily works on the engine, We finish our ice cream sandwiches and hop in the back to help her hand out treats. It's a particularly warm day today, But it begins to feel even warmer as we start working as ice cream truck drivers ourselves. We're running back and forth between the many freezers that line the walls of the truck and the window where the line of excited customers grows. That's when we notice that some of the ice cream treats are somewhat soft and squishy. Holding two ice cream cones in each of her hands, Melody Bee cannot seem to get ahead of the drip frenzy. Um, I think the ice creams are melting, Or my hands are made of fire. One of those things. Oh goodness, It does look like they're melting. Here, Let's put them back in the freezer. When we open the freezer, We realize that it's just as warm in there as it is outside. Not only is the ice cream truck engine broken, But the freezers are too. We alert the friendly ice cream truck driver, Who quickly starts to worry. Running around to hidden spots of the truck where she's stashed battery-powered fans and misters in case of emergencies just like this one, Mr. Honey Bee comes in from working on the engine to give even more regretful news. It looks like your engine needs more repairs than I can manage. You'll have to take it back to the ice cream truck yard for new parts, Or maybe get a whole new truck. Hoping against hope for the best, The ice cream truck driver tries to start the truck once again, But it refuses to start. This ice cream truck has sung its last song and dished out its last scoop. I can call a tow truck. Will they get here in time, My dear? Look at all this ice cream. It's melting. I'm not sure. It doesn't seem like we have time on our side. Well, If it helps, I'm sure me and Harold could help… eat all the ice cream. Ha! Melody Bee, We'll have to do more than just eat the ice cream. We need to save it so everyone else has some to enjoy. What are we going to do? We'll figure it out. We always do. I'm sure of it, But how? We rush around the truck, Trying to point the fans at the ice cream and keep the misters going, And assume that Harold is just vocalizing how we all feel with his howls. But then he howls again. Are you okay, Harold? Do you need something? I think he's calling for help. Who are you calling for, Boy? Who do I think it is? We peek our heads out the ice cream truck window to look over the heads of all our neighbors standing in line and see a troop of sled dogs running down from the mountains to answer Harold's call for help. The sled dogs! They're here! Good boy, Harold. You got us just the help we need. Since the broken down ice cream truck engine can't start, The sled dogs hook themselves up to the front of the truck and treat it just like another sled. They organize themselves like reindeers in front of a sleigh, But the ice cream is the presence. And we should have known, But we are surprised when Harold, The smallest but mightiest of all the pups, Heads right to the front of the pack to lead like a very special reindeer would. All he needs is a little red nose. With the truck in neutral, We are once again in action. We sit in the front of the ice cream truck to help the driver navigate and keep the sled dogs mushing. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the coolness of the air coming in through your nose that gets colder the further up the mountain we travel. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and send even more strength to the pack of sled dogs. They make an excellent team, Just like us, And are combining their incredible strength to get us up to the top of the mountain where there's still plenty of snow. Climbing the mountain seems to take us from one season to the next. Down on the flatland, We were enjoying a warm summer day, But up here, We are right back in winter. It gets colder and colder as we get higher and higher in altitude. In the blink of an eye, The evergreen trees are not so green anymore. They're white and drooping under the heavy, Sparkling snow that reflects off the sunshine. The higher we go, We see the exact moment about halfway up the mountain where the snowpack melts and creates the Honey River. As the river rushes down the mountain, We are rushing up. Hanging out of the door and window, We reach out to grab handfuls of snow to line the freezers with. Take another slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the coolness of air coming in through your nose as you reach your hand out as far as you can to grab a cool, Soft handful of snow. Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and pack the snow into the freezer around each of the ice cream cones like you're tucking them in for bed. We each do this several times when we're not navigating the truck, Rushing back and forth between the freezers and the window once again. Once we are surrounded by snow, The sled dogs instinctively stop and secure the truck to one of the tallest, Strongest trees to make sure it doesn't roll right back down the mountain. Harold takes the lead, Wrapping ropes around the truck axle before running as fast as his four little paws can move over to the tree. He runs around it three times, Then Mr. Honeybee ties it in a big knot. The ice cream truck driver is so grateful for our help. Now that all of her inventory is not in danger of melting, She has time to take the truck apart and put it back together, Which she's done many, Many times because it's one of her favorite things to do. And this is her favorite truck, So she's determined to keep it running. With the hood open and all of us standing over the engine, She goes through it part by part, Taking out what she can and passing it along our assembly line of hands and laying them in the soft snow to cool down. The engine could have simply overheated. It's a very warm day today. Maybe this old truck just needs a little break. See, This is why it's important to take breaks. We take breaks so our breaks don't break. So we don't overheat our engines. With all the engine parts strewn about the snow, The ice cream truck driver finally identifies the issue. She and Mr. Honeybee talk shop under the hood as we all help put it back together again. They both delight in explaining what each part of the engine does and how it all works together like one big puzzle. Take another slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the sensation of your engine, Your heart, Beating once, Twice, Three times. Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and do the honors of placing the last part in the ice cream truck engine. You close the hood and we all wipe our palms clean of the dust and soot. All of the sled dogs are curled up napping in the snow until they are called on for their next emergency tow. We sit back with them as the ice cream truck driver successfully starts the engine, Unhooks the truck from the tree and makes her way back down the mountain. But not before giving us all the ice cream we can hold. This will taste even better when we're back in the warm sunshine. Luckily, We can stash it away until then since it's so chilly up here. Suddenly, We hear another distant howl calling the sled dogs to action. We all hop on the sleds for a sled dog ride back down the mountain, Enjoying our ice cream and the cool breeze before we get back down to the bottom where it's nice and warm. Today was extra special because we got to experience two seasons in one day. But more importantly, We got to put our heads together, Lend a hand and help out a friend. The extra ice cream was a much appreciated bonus to an already wonderful day. Always remember, Mrs. Honeybee believes in you. You are special and you are loved. I can't wait to see you again. Bedtime with Mrs. Honeybee Today, In the Honeybee neighborhood, We'll be exploring outer space. The moon? All the way up there? Well, Kinda. The moon doesn't seem to be where it usually is. The moon has gone missing, So we'll need to find it first. I look at the moon every night while I fall asleep in the garden. The moon is like my personal little nightlight. It can't go missing. I don't know how we're going to see without the moon. You're right, My dear. I've got our special nightlight moon bright goggles. With these, We'll be able to see in the dark until we find the moon. Oh, That's right. I'll go grab my nightlight moon bright goggles now. All you have to do is close your eyes, Get cozy and listen to the sound of my voice. Mrs. Honeybee will be your guide. Let's begin. You are here, In the Honeybee neighborhood, Walking up to our house. The garage is open today, And you see Mr. Honeybee happily tinkering away at his workbench. You wonder to yourself, What fun prototypes he's working on today, As you lightly tap on the little garage door so as not to scare him while he's focused. Oh, Hello there, My little Honeybee. How are you today? While you chat with Mr. Honeybee, He hands you tools and random components to hold as he screws in the finished details of a little electronic in his hand. From inside the house, Harold hears your voice and runs out to greet you. But he can't quite get through the screen door. Melody Bee buzzes to his aid, But she cannot quite work that door either. Why are these doors so complicated? Little Honeybee, Can you help us get out? We're so excited to see you. We wish we could see you without this pesky screen door. Like the good friend you are, You walk over to the door to let Harold and Melody Bee out. They dash out to greet you with big, Squeezing hugs. Then you all wander back to Mr. Honeybee's workbench, Where he's still trying to figure something out. My satellite phone is down for some reason. A satellite is the most reliable form of communication. I use it all the time for my, Um, My, Um, Various projects. Anyways, It won't get a signal. Hi, My little Honeybee. I thought I heard your voice out here. So glad you made it today. We're going to have to change our plans, Though. We can't have a movie night like planned. The satellite TV doesn't seem to work. Really? My phone isn't working? Hmm. We might have to go up to the moon to make sure all the satellites are alright. The moon? I've never been to the moon. I don't have an astronaut outfit. Or a proper helmet. Of course you do, Melody Bee. Yours is with ours in the hallway closet, Next to your raincoat. You just haven't had an occasion to use it yet. Oh. Whew. Okay. Let's go to the moon. I was just kidding, Melody Bee. Wow. This has been a roller coaster. I'm exhausted. Maybe the satellites are just tired, Too. Maybe. Oh well. We'll wait and see if it's just a temporary outage. Sometimes, Space rocks get in the way of the signal. Harold happily leads us back inside to gather up all the supplies we'll need for a backyard bonfire. Since we can't watch your favorite movie like we were planning to tonight, We can do the next best thing. Tell stories around the fire. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the coolness of the air coming in through your nose as your chest expands out round. Then, Slowly, Use your belly muscles to breathe all the way out through your mouth and walk out to the backyard with Harold at your feet. You do your best not to trip over him as he excitedly weaves between your footsteps carrying his new favorite toy. A snuggly teddy bear that's small enough for him to carry around with him. The sun is beginning to set and the daytime sky is giving way to a deep purple nighttime sky. The stars begin to twinkle as you and Harold pick your spots around the fire and get yourselves situated. Melody B busily gathers the graham crackers and chocolate while Mr. Honey B gets the s'mores skewers. I surprise everyone with mugs of hot tea since we can already tell it's going to be a bit chilly out tonight even though it's been warm during the day. The sun tucks itself into her sleep behind the western mountains and we take turns telling stories. Mr. Honey B tells us a funny one from when he was a boy. I tell a spooky story and everyone jumps when they least expect to. Melody B reads a little poem she's been working on since she's been working on improving her rhymes. Like we always do, We have the best time doing the simplest things as long as we do them together. Even when technology fails, We still manage to have a blast. Speaking of, Should you try your satellite phone again to see if it's working yet? Oh, Good idea. Mr. Honey B goes back inside to grab his gadgets and returns pressing buttons frantically, Holding the phone up to the sky to get a better signal. Is it still not working, Mr. Honey B? No, Nothing. I can't get it to register any kind of signal. It's like it's completely shut off. What if I point it right at the moon? Wait, Where's the moon? Immediately, We all look up to the darker than usual sky. The only light we see are from the twinkling stars and the crackling bonfire. We search and scan the entire sky, Looking every which way for a sign or sliver of the silver moon, But continue to see nothing. Harold tries to help by howling. Maybe the moon will come out of hiding if it knows someone is talking to it directly. I've never seen a moon resist a howl before. Is tonight a new moon, Melody B? No, No, Not at all. The opposite, Actually. Tonight, It should be a full moon. Where did the moon go? Well, It couldn't have traveled far, Right? Can it travel at all? Discontent with his own line of questioning, Mr. Honey B rushes to his garage and returns rolling four massive telescopes with only two hands. Our eyes widen with excitement. We've never seen telescopes that big, And now we're going to get to look through them. The moon will never be able to hide from those, And we'll get to see the planets and stars close up. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Allow the fresh air to clear your mind like a nighttime breeze. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and squint one of your eyes to take a peek through your telescope. Look your telescope all the way to one side of the sky, Then all the way to the other side. You cannot see the moon anywhere. I don't see our moon. Do you, My dear? I don't. I see plenty of twinkling stars, A red planet, And brownish one with rings. Oh, That's Mars. And Saturn. If you can find Jupiter, That one has 79 moons. There are so many moons, They don't even all have names yet. Hmm. I see Mars, Too. And there's Saturn. And Jupiter. Wait a minute. Doesn't Mars only have two moons? Phobos and Deimos. Yeah. Well, Those are their Greek names. Technically, They're named Fear and Terror, But I promise they're friendlier than they seem. Starting at fiery red Mars, I count one, Two, Three moons. One. Two. Oh my goodness. You're right. How did Mars get an extra moon? I don't know if this is possible, But look closely at the third moon. The one that's further away. That one looks familiar. Don't you think? It sure does. Our Earth moon went to Mars. Could that be why the satellite electronics don't work? Definitely. Yes. What do we do now? Will the moon ever come back? I'm going to miss it so much if it doesn't. It has to come back. It just has to. We have no choice but to. Are you going to say what I think you're going to say? Did you think I was going to say, Go to Mars? Yes, I did. Then, Yes, I was, My dear. Let's go to Mars. Melody B needs to put her space suit she didn't know she had to good use. A bee of many firsts, I am. We all head to the hallway closet to suit up in our space suits. While we're doing that, Mr. Honeybee calls us a rocket, Which arrives in the blink of an eye. One by one, We board the rocket and prepare to launch into space. You sit down at the controls between me and Mr. Honeybee, And Harold jumps up to sit in your lap. As always, We need your help with the launch. This is the perfect time to do a rocket breath so we can build up enough kinetic energy to get all the way to Mars. Clap your hands together once in front of you. Then take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Rub your palms together to create enough heat to launch. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and powerfully blow your hands away and us into space. The rocket launches up into the stars and we hurtle through the atmosphere. You successfully help us avoid a few meteors that are traveling by and are the first to spot our target up ahead. Mars glows fiery red and you point it out to Harold, Who instinctively howls at the Earth moon who is visiting Mars for a reason we will soon discover. I always have a hard time finding Mars. Bees can't see the color red. I can see like 80 shades of blue, But not one single red. I've heard about it though, And it sounds lovely. You soak in the spectacular views of outer space surrounded by twinkling stars and each of the planets as we fly by. As we approach, Mars' redness dissipates into a fine dust that creates its color from far away. We land on the dry, Cracked surface and kick up even more dust as we do. We hop out of the rocket and float slowly down to the dusty ground. The two moons, Which usually hang with Mars, Spin around in quick succession. Off in the distant Mars horizon, We see our Earthly moon struggling to keep up with the pace of Phobos and Deimos. When our Earth moon gets closer, We get a running start as best as we can and leap over to our moon in its new orbit. The moon is noticeably upset and has arranged its craters into an upside-down frown. We can't help but sit with it and ask how we can help turn the frown upside down. It's the least we can do. After all the moon has done for us. The moon goes on to explain that this is his least favorite part of the year. The days are getting longer, All sunshine all the time. The moon doesn't like being hidden all the time and wants to shine down on Earth. Since it didn't feel as appreciated as it thought the sun was, The moon figured it would journey to Mars, Thinking no one would even miss it. What? How could you say that? I missed you so much, Moon. I talk with you every night, And you're my nightlight most nights. Think about it this way, Moon. The sun will feel like you're the star of the show come the next season, When the days get shorter and the nights get longer. Yes, Dearest moon, You are an important part of the solar system. Though you may need to share the spotlight a little more than you'd like, We love and appreciate you for what you do best. Giving what we said careful consideration, The Earth moon does another revolution around Mars just to take a moment to think about things. We hop back to Mars' dusty surface to give the moon some space, And when it comes back around, The frown has successfully righted itself. The moon agreed to go back to be with the Earth because it realized the important role it plays in our lives. And just you wait, Moon. There might be a lunar eclipse or two coming up. You'll really be a sight to behold then. We launch our rocket off of Mars and travel through outer space alongside our moon. Once we get close enough to Earth, We drop the moon off at its exit and continue on down to Earth. As we approach the atmosphere, We look back and marvel at our silver moon with a new appreciation of its beauty. Always remember, Mrs. Honeybee believes in you. You are special and you are loved. I can't wait to see you again. Bedtime with Mrs. Honeybee Today, In the Honeybee neighborhood, We'll be training for a competition. Not just any competition, But a spelling one. A-L-L-I-N-G B-E-E A spelling bee with spelling bees. The spelling bees and I take this very seriously. S-E-R-I-U-S-L-Y. I'm training to be the best. So close, Melody Bee. Seriously is missing one letter and a sneaky one at that. Oh, That's true, Mrs. Honeybee. O-L-S-L-Y You got it. When will the rest of the spelling bees be here? Any moment, Mr. Honeybee. All you have to do is close your eyes, Get cozy, And listen to the sound of my voice. Mrs. Honeybee will be your guide. Let's begin. You are here at our front door, Lifting your hand to knock. Like always, You can hear Melody Bee and Harold rushing to the door to answer, So excited that you are here. Wait, I always forget how to unlock this door. Is it this way? I'm too focused on spelling right now. I can't think about anything else. Watch, I can spell all of this. Lock. L-O-C-K. Bolt. Thingamajig that I can't open. B-O-L-T. Space. T-H-I-N. We trust that you can spell Thingamajig, Melody Bee. Don't worry. Look here. The lock goes this way, And then like this. See? I can't take in any new information right now, Mrs. Honeybee. My brain is tight on space. I can only think about spelling. Hi, Little Honeybee. What's the biggest word you can spell? Melody Bee, Let my little Honeybee come in the door before your spelling quizzes start. Oh, Okay, Okay. Let's walk. Walk. W-A-L-K. Space. Inside. I-N-S-I-D-E. The E is silent. Don't you mean that E is in stealth mode? Mr. Honeybee, Are you playing video games again? No. You totally were. You're playing without me? I was just making sure your controller was warm for you, My dear. You're welcome. Mm-hmm. Hello, My little Honeybee. It's so nice to see you. Hopefully, Melody Bee gives you a little break before she starts quizzing you on spelling. Oh, Goodness. I need to know how to spell spelling. S-P-E-L-L-I-N-G. Was that right? It seems right. That was right. You got it. Imagine if that was the word I miss at our tournament. They would confiscate my sash right off my shoulder. Confiscate. C-O-N-F-I-S-C-A-T-E. Melody Bee proudly spells her words and is even more proud to show you her bright blue sash with the spelling bees written across it in white letters. She buzzes around the room really quick and returns with an identical sash for you. Melody Bee drapes it around your shoulders and you feel a sense of pride without really knowing why. You are now an honorary, H-O-N-O-R-A-R-Y member of the spelling bees, Little Honeybee. Melody Bee explains that she started a competitive spelling group called None Other Than the Spelling Bees, And they need just one more team member for their upcoming tournament. She has been busily preparing for this tournament by spelling the hardest words she can think of, With even more challenging words thrown in by Mr. Honeybee. She flutters alongside you, Spelling what she sees including your name. As she stumbles through the word embarrassed, You look down at the sash and think of yourself on a spelling bee stage getting the most challenging word right on your first try. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the cool air coming in through your nose and let it clear your mind so you can spell your best. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and sit down next to Melody Bee on the couch while she carefully decides whether there are two R's in embarrassed or just one. If I don't get this right, I'm going to be embarrassed. This is a hard one, Melody Bee. You'll only be embarrassed if you don't learn from your mistakes. Mr. Honeybee tries to slip in clues for Melody Bee whenever he can, And she really appreciates it. Oh, Okay. I got it. I got it. E-M-B-E-D? Was that right? No, But now you get to learn from your mistakes. There are two R's, Melody Bee, And there's no reason to be embarrassed. Spelling is hard. That's why there are tournaments in the first place. If it was easy, Then it couldn't be a competition. You're right, Mrs. Honeybee. Thank you for the reminder. And speaking of first place, That's where these bees are heading. Right, Little honeybee? Harold hops up into your lap for puppy kisses and pets. Mr. Honeybee and I sit on the other side of the couch and resume playing our racing game while you and Melody Bee practice more spelling. Ha! Got you on that round, Mr. Honeybee. How do you do it? Are you using cheat codes? Of course not, My dear. And it's nothing I can teach. I suppose it's just natural talent. Yeah, Yeah. But can you spell AND beat me at racing games? Hmm. Mr. Honeybee's clever proposition gets Melody Bee's attention, And she grabs your hand to get up from the couch and stand in front of the TV. The screen is split. You stand on the side of Mr. Honeybee's character, And Melody Bee stands on the side of mine. We're going to combine two of our favorite things today. Video games and spelling. Except we won't be racing cars. It'll be a spelling race. Okay, Here's how it goes. Mrs. Honeybee, You give me a word to spell, And however long it takes me to spell it, You have to stay in place while Mr. Honeybee races as fast as he can. And vice versa. The longer it takes me to spell, The more of a head start Mr. Honeybee gets. And we take turns. So then, I'll give our little Honeybee a word to spell, And Mrs. Honeybee gets a head start until the word is spelled correctly? Oh, Okay. I get it. This should be good. The race is going to start any second. To prepare for this extra special race, Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Let the fresh air clear your mind of all worries and think of the happiness you feel while playing your favorite game. Then, Slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and get ready to race. The race begins in three, Two, One. Here I go! Okay, Melody Bee, Your word is conscience. You can do this. Conscience. C-O-N-S-C-I-E-N-C-E. Conscience, Or con-science. You got it. You got it. Here I go. Melody Bee spelled that one quickly, So Mr. Honeybee didn't get that much of a head start, But he's far ahead at this point. Now it's your turn to try spelling. Okay, My little Honeybee. You got this. Your word is believe. And in case you need it in a sentence, My little Honeybee, It's I believe in you. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Clear your mind of everything else and picture the word spelled out. Then, Slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and spell it out as best you can. You got it. B-E-L-I-E-V-E. Great work, My little Honeybee. I didn't fall that far behind at all. I'm gaining on you, Mrs. Honeybee. Melody Bee, Your next word is a hard one. Fluorescence. What? Those awful, But more sustainable lights? Yes, Those. Hurry, Hurry. Mr. Honeybee's going to win. Um, F. . . I know there's a secret letter in there. F-L-U-O-R-E-S-C-E-N-T. Wow, Great job. You got it, But not fast enough. Finally, I win. That's the only way I stand a chance at beating you in video games, Mrs. Honeybee. Hey, What can I say? I love video games. We almost had him, Melody Bee. I picked a really hard one for you, And you did a great job. That sure was a hard one. Hey, That was a really hard word now that I think about it, Mrs. Honeybee. Now I think you two spelling experts need to take turns. Come on up here. We're going to think of doozies for you. I'm up for it. Doozies. D-O-O-Z-I-E-S. Me too. I might even spell it backwards and forwards. D-O-O-Z-I-E-S-S-E-I-Z-O-O-D. Let's do it. To prepare for this race, We take a slow, Deep breath in through our noses. The joy we are feeling in this moment brings our awareness to our hearts, Beating once, Twice, Three times. Then we slowly breathe all the way out through our mouth. And Mr. Honeybee and I take our places in front of the TV. Mr. Honeybee stands on your side, And I stand on Melody Bee's side. Take hold of the controller and get ready to race. I will spell first, And you will get a little head start with Mr. Honeybee standing beside your character in the game who's ready to go. The race begins in three, Two, One. Mrs. Honeybee, Your word is noticeable. Noticeable. N-O-T-I-C-E-A-B-L-E. And A-E-C-I-T-O-N. Melody Bee catches up to you as quickly as she can. But at this point in the race, You have a steady lead. Mr. Honeybee's word is Occurrence. Occurrence. Hmm. There are secret double letters all over this word. I can tell. Okay. Occurrence. O-C. Hmm. C-U-R-R-E-N-C-E. Melody Bee got her left and right hands confused for the brakes versus the gas pedal, So she spun out just a little. But now she's back on your tail. You two are so close as you round the last curve until finally you win, My little Honeybee. Whew. Great game, Everyone. And great spelling. Occurrence got me. That first double C snuck right by me. I almost forgot about it, Too. But I had a feeling it was there, Just waiting to trip me up. With all this racing and fun we're having, Harold comes down with a case of the zoomies. He leaps off the couch, Through the kitchen, Around the table, Back to the front door, And all the way back where he finally stops, Laying on the couch, Panting. You both were able to spell it backwards and forwards. That's incredible. You know what? Little Honeybee over here is an honorary member of the Spelling Bees. Obviously. But I'm sure the team would love it if you, Mrs. Honeybee, And you, Mr. Honeybee, Would be our official coaches. We could really use your expertise for this upcoming tournament. Of course. I would love to be the Spelling Bees' coach. Me too. That sounds like so much fun. The rest of the team should be here any minute, Right? Oh, I think that's them now. Melody Bee answers the door and excitedly tells her team of spellers that they have a brand new member and two new coaches. They are all so excited to meet you and to get right to work. We all head out into the backyard where Mr. Honeybee has set up a movie projector so we can enjoy outdoor movies tonight after the tournament. For now, You all take turns spelling more and more challenging words, And then we show them on the projector so you can imagine them better on the stage. Our practice ends with one of the toughest spelling words ever given in a spelling tournament. Okay, Melody Bee, This is a hard one, But you can do it. Okay, I'm ready. Smaragdin. Oh, In a sentence? Legend has it that Alexander the Great found a Smaragdin tablet containing 13 sentences considered to be basic principles in ancient Greek alchemy. E. You got it. You got the stealth mode E. Full of confidence, You and the spelling bees proudly walk into the spelling tournament and spell each and every word correctly. You get one of the most challenging words, But that doesn't shake you or your confidence. You calmly imagine the word in your head and say each letter out loud, Inspecting them for hidden, Silent letters as you say them. The crowd cheers, And your team runs up to you for a team hug when your spelling wins the whole tournament. You are such an important part of our team, My little Honey Bee. Now we get to go back home and enjoy the projector Mr. Honey Bee set up for us. While he cues up all the options for us to choose from, You and the rest of the spelling bees snuggle into the cozy backyard hammocks. Since you spelled the winning word, The team wants to watch your favorite movies back-to-back to celebrate. That's celebrate. C-E-L-E-B-R-A-T-E Always remember, Mrs. Honey Bee believes in you. You are special and you are loved. I can't wait to see you again. Bedtime with Mrs. Honey Bee Today, In the Honey Bee neighborhood, We'll be visiting the beach. Have you seen my surfboard, My dear? I've got to wax it before we head out for the day. Yes, Mr. Honey Bee. It's leaning against the front door. Buzz, Buzz, Buzz. Best day of the week. I'm excited too, Melody Bee. Wait, Mrs. Honey Bee, Did you already wax my surfboard? After today, That might not be your surfboard anymore, Dear. What? Did you finally sign up for surfing lessons? I did. I'll be taking surfing lessons down at the beach with my personal lifeguard, Of course. This is going to be so fun. All you have to do is close your eyes, Get cozy, And listen to the sound of my voice. Mrs. Honey Bee will be your guide. Let's begin. You are here, Walking the last few steps up our driveway toward Mr. Honey Bee's garage. When you get here, You expect the garage door to be wide open as we pack the car, And you were surprised when it wasn't. You lightly press your ear against the garage to see if you can hear us in there. Since you can hear our muffled voices, You knock on the metal garage door to get our attention. You stand back to let the garage open, But decide to limbo as low as you can to go under it before it opens all the way. As always, Harold is the first to run out to greet you with slobbery kisses. All of the car doors are open, So Mr. Honey Bee, Melanie Bee, And I can squeeze in as much of our beach day stuff as possible. Mr. Honey Bee is trying to cram a boogie board with a longer-than-usual leash attached to it into the back of the car between an ice chest and an umbrella. Holding Harold in your arms, You circle around the car to see all that we are bringing to get a sense of how much fun the beach day ahead of us will be. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the coolness of the air coming in through your nose, And quiet yourself inside and out. It's as if you can hear the ocean waves already. Slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth, And walk around to the back of the car to give Mr. Honey Bee a much-needed hand. Harold tries to help, Too, But this is a job that's too big for paws. Can you grab that side of the umbrella, My little Honey Bee? I think we need to pull it out just a little, Then I can squeeze the boogie boards in underneath. Oh, Let me help, Too. Melody Bee flutters above you to help grab hold of the umbrella stand. She seems to be lifting it all on her own, So you let go of it a little to help Mr. Honey Bee wiggle the boogie board alongside another one in a neat stack. Once you get it situated, You look back to see that Melody Bee has lost control of the umbrella and is fluttering backwards against her will. Whoa! An opportune gust of wind blows by just as Melody Bee accidentally clicks the button to open the beach umbrella, Which is much too heavy for her to hold. The wind carries both the opened umbrella and Melody Bee, Who is still clinging to the umbrella pole, Off into the sky. I hear the commotion and come running out to the garage with armfuls of towels. We all drop everything and run toward Melody Bee and the runaway umbrella, Which are blowing down the driveway and out into the neighborhood. Ah! Umbrella! We could drive to the beach. We don't have to fly. Ah! Should I let go? Mr. Honey Bee and I run and grab for Melody Bee's feet, But she slips out of our grasp. You run out ahead of us and leap into the air just high enough to catch Melody Bee and stop the umbrella's flight. The wind is still blowing, And it takes all three of us to get the opened up umbrella back down. Thank you, Everyone. This umbrella could probably fly us all to the beach. Don't give it any ideas now, Melody Bee. Let's close it up and try driving there instead. We pack the rest of the car full of beach day fun and head off to the coast, Waiting on the edge of our seats for the first glimpse of the glittering ocean waves. From the back seat window, Wedged between boogie boards, Piles of towels, Harold's floppy ears, And Melody Bee, Who has fallen asleep on your shoulder, You look out the car window to see an endless horizon of crystal blue water. Mr. Honey Bee makes one last turn, And before you know it, We've arrived at the beach for our beach day. We're here! What a perfect day to spend at the beach. What do you want to do first, My little Honey Bee? Maybe some surfing? Are you really going to surf, My dear? Of course I am. I waxed and brought my surfboard after all. I'll race you to the shore. Carrying as much as she can hold, Melody Bee bravely buzzes toward the water. Her excitement helps her forget that just minutes ago, She was swept up by the wind. With the umbrella, A bag of sand toys in your hand, And your towels over your shoulder, You take off running through the sand after Melody Bee. Harold trails you at your heels, Happily chasing both of you until his paws touch the water. It gets more and more difficult to run through the sand, But your enthusiasm and excitement carry you through. Right foot, Left foot, Right foot, Left foot. You, Harold, And Melody Bee are lined up at the shore with the tips of your toes just barely touching the waterline. Looking out over the vast ocean, Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel your chest and your spirits lift, Warmed by the bright sunshine and the feeling of pure joy in the air. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth as a little wave crashes onto the shore and over the tops of your bare feet. It feels cool and refreshing. Little goosebumps line your arms and legs as you adjust to the coolness. Once you do, You wait for the latest wave to crash and gently pull you out into the calm waters. You let your whole body be soft and squishy as if the bright sunshine has melted you, And you float in the gentle, Rolling waves. That's where Harold and I meet you, Paddling on our bellies on Mr. Honey Bee's surfboard. Why, Hello there, My little Honey Bee. Would you like a surfboard, Too? Harold and I have been practicing, But we have a lifeguard that helps us with the wobbles. Did someone say lifeguard? Do you need me to rescue you? No, Melody Bee. I think we're doing just fine so far, But we will need help really soon. We're going to catch the next wave. Here comes one now. You quickly slide onto the surfboard and steady yourself for the next wave. It's coming in fast, And it's going to be a big one. Together, We swim out far enough to catch it in time and with enough momentum. We line ourselves up side by side with enough room for us each to catch a part of the wave. Harold takes his position at the front of the surfboard to help balance. Our personal lifeguard, Melody Bee, Flutters overhead with her sunscreen and her whistle to make sure we are A-OK. Just as it's about to break and curl over to crash in on itself, We swim as fast as we can. We catch the wave and stand ourselves up inside of it. The gigantic wave curls over our heads, But we surf through it with our hands out to the side, Reaching for Melody Bee just in case. You catch a quick glance of Mr. Honeybee at the shore, Waving you on and cheering for us. We successfully ride onto the shore and hop off the surfboards and into the soft sand. We did it! We surfed our first wave. Oh my goodness, You should have seen yourselves in action. Professional surfers over here. And I got it all on film. This will be a fun video to re-watch. I had no idea you two could surf so well. And you Harold, How did you learn to surf? Your surfboard leash is still attached to your ankle as you step out of the water, Glistening in the sunshine. Harold is beside himself with excitement and chases the waves as they roll in and out. One of his paws catches on your surfboard leash and all three of you are swept back out into the ocean, Laughing the whole time. Harold doggy paddles valiantly until, Straddling your surfboard for stability, You scoop him up from the water and float on the waves that gently rock back and forth. When you float back onto shore, You are careful to unstrap your ankle from your surfboard and together we carry our boards up the small hill of the shore while Melody Bee flutters overhead, Ready and waiting to wrap you in a fluffy towel. As we walk back, We can see the top of Mr. Honeybee's hat just over the little cliff of sand. He is focused on his work, But we cannot quite see what he's working on. From up above, Melody Bee sees it first. Mr. Honeybee, Did you just build that? I sure did. We climb the last little bit of sand with Harold to see that Mr. Honeybee has built what looks like a sand palace. It's big enough for you to go in, Melody Bee. Take a look inside. Wow, I can't believe you built all of this. It doesn't even look like sand. It looks like an actual castle. How did you build stairs that lead up to the turret tower? Oh, It's nothing. A little plastic shovel and some salt water can't hobble together. Do you like it, My dear? Like it? I love it. It does look like a real castle. Look at the detail on the stones. It looks like it's built of stone. Mr. Honeybee continues working on his palace with your help. You happily dig your hands into the soft sand to scoop up a big enough pile to make a drawbridge for the moat which is slowly forming as the waves approach. Take another slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the sunshine on your skin as your chest fills with fresh ocean air. Then, Slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth. You combine sand with enough salt water to create a bridge that somehow holds over the moat. Melody Bee floats along the bridge once you've built it for her and up into the highest tower. Princess Melody Bee in her tower. Wow, This is so cool. I think I should have a tower at home. Being a princess in a tower, I don't know. It just feels natural, You know? Oh, Oh no! From high up in the tallest sandcastle tower, Princess Melody Bee looks out over the ocean. Her eyes widen in a way that you can't immediately read. When you look back at the shoreline to see what she's looking at, You see a gigantic wave forming. In the blink of an eye, The even bigger than expected wave crashes on the shore, Rushes up the embankment, And floods even the highest tower of the sandcastle. Melody Bee is once again swept away. Not by the wind, But by the water, Which has made her wings so heavy she cannot flutter herself out of this one. Melody Bee, Oh no! We're coming for you, Melody Bee. Melody Bee can't help but giggle as she gives in to the wave and simply floats. When another wave comes, It launches her back up to the shore and into our arms, Finally able to catch her. She flutters her wings in the bright sunshine to help them dry and struggles to get all the salt water out of her nose. I think I need that leash more than the surfboard. I politely request a tether, Please. Out of an abundance of caution, Melody Bee walks up to the umbrella, Which has been anchored to a stake in the sand, And tethers herself to it. She insists she will flutter no more today and instead relaxes in her tiny lounge chair, Letting the sun finish drying her wings. We spend the rest of the day enjoying the waves, The sun, And the sand until nighttime when we have a bonfire. Sitting around the bonfire, We dare each other to dip our toes into the nighttime ocean, But we're too busy laughing, Telling stories and jokes, And making s'mores for such a dare. This bonfire and the sounds of the waves are all we need for a perfect end to a perfect beach day. Always remember, Mrs. Honey Bee believes in you. You are special and you are loved. I can't wait to see you again. Bedtime with Mrs. Honey Bee Today in the Honey Bee neighborhood, We'll be visiting an apple orchard. The bus is here. All right, I just need to grab one thing. What's the backpack for, Melody Bee? Well, Here's what I'm thinking. Maybe today at the apple orchard, You know, If I find an apple seed, I can bring it back here and plant it in the garden. Then, Next year, We'll have a harvest of apples. Wow, Great idea. I love a delicious apple, And it'll be so nice to have them right here in the garden. All right. Is everyone ready to go? Of course you can come, Harold. I'll grab your leash. I'll meet you guys on the bus in just a moment. All you have to do is close your eyes, Get cozy, And listen to the sound of my voice. Mrs. Honey Bee will be your guide. Let's begin. You are here, Walking through the forest to our house. The sun shines down on you through the treetops as leaves crunch beneath your footsteps. Melody Bee hears you crunching before you get close enough to see her head poking up over the fence, Waiting for the rest of you to arrive. She smiles and waves hello, So excited to see you and show you what she's doing out in the backyard today. Hello, Little honey bee. Come on back. I have a treat for you. When you walk through the gate, She's holding out a plump pink apple in her hands. I saved this one for you. Have you ever seen a pink apple before? When you bite in, It's still pink. Well, It's light gray to my eyes, But that means to your eyes it's light red or pink. Melody Bee takes a big bite out of the apple and shows you the even brighter and pinker inside. She explains that honey bees like her see the color red as the color black, Or the only color they can't really see. Puzzling over how different the same apple looks to you and Melody Bee, You take a big bite out of your apple. It's sweet and bright pink inside. Mr. Honey Bee hears the crisp crunch of the apple all the way from inside and peeks his head out the back door to make sure he's not missing anything. Are you trying those farmer's market apples we found? I want to try one. Sweet. Mrs. Honey Bee found them sitting at the bottom of a basket at the farmer's market. There were four pink apples, And she said it was like they were waiting for us. They were. They were waiting for this exact moment. Hello, My little honey bee. It's so nice to see you and to enjoy fresh apples. I've never seen apples this pink. I wonder what they're called. I think they're called delicious. No, Those are red. It's in the name. Red Delicious Apples. These can be called pink scrumptious apples. That works for me. They're both pink and scrumptious. Mr. Honey Bee takes another bite out of his apple, And suddenly he looks confused. He holds the apple up as if inspecting it. Mr. Honey Bee leans in close, Poking the core of the pink apple with his fingertip. After a couple of curious taps, A little worm wiggles its head out of its hiding place in the center of the apple. Whoa, It's alive! Aww, A little cute. Thank goodness you saw him when you did, Mr. Honey Bee. I have to show Harold. He loves worms. I'm surprised he's not out here already. Harold, Here boy. Harold bolts up from his afternoon nap and gallops outside to see you. Harold, Look! We found you a new worm friend. A worm friend that almost lost his head. No, No, No. Don't worry, Harold. I saw him in time. He's right here. Harold, Show them what you do for the worms. Harold gently noses the worm with his snout until he's cross-eyed and balancing the worm on his snout. Carefully walking and watching where he's going out of crossed eyes, He makes his way to the grass and lowers the worm back into the grass. He sits down as if he's done a trick, And we give him all the pets he can handle as a reward. After it rains, Harold and I notice more earthworms out and about than usual. We figured out that the rain temporarily floods the grass, So it brings them up and out of the soil. But since the rocks and cement around the grass is wet too, They think that's soil. The worms can't stay out in the sunshine too long or else they shrivel up. So Harold is a superhero for the worms and delivers all worms he finds on the rocks and cement back into the grass. Aww, What a good boy and even better worm friend you are, Harold. Some unexpected wiggling gets Harold's attention once again. He studies the soil where he left the worm and sees that the worm is slithering away out onto the rocks and cement. Harold again moves the worm back to the grass, But the worm will not stay put. After returning the worm a few times, Harold resolves to follow it instead. And we begin to follow him, Curious where both will lead. We make our way through the forest, Back the way you came, Crunching the same leaves you crunched, But careful to stay on the trail of our new worm friend. Harold's snout is trained on the forest floor and doesn't let the worm out of his sniffing range. Where do you think he's taking us, Mrs. Honeybee? We're heading in the direction of the apple orchard. Oh, I know where he's headed. Those scrumptious pink apples. You mean the pink scrumptious apples? Yes, Those ones. They were from this orchard. I talked with the farmer sowing them and she said she worked up here. The apples were grown locally. I think the worm is leading us back to his home. His ancestral lands. His literal and figurative roots. Aw, It'll be a family reunion. We can see if they have more of those pink apples. Maybe we'll find a blue one. You never know. Just as we suspected, The worm happily leads us back to his home. An apple orchard up high in the forest, Where the air gets extra chilly and the apples can get extra delicious. At the entrance of the apple orchard stands a stack of baskets lined with red checkered cloth. We each grab one and slide it over our hands onto our forearms to carry through the orchard. From here, We cannot see the forest for the trees. We only see trees. So many trees, Every which way we look. Melody Bee is overwhelmed by the sweet scent of the pollen that floats through the air. Smell. I can smell it all day. There must be millions of types of pollen out and about here. Holding your basket on your arm, Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the coolness of the air coming in through your nose and finding its way to your lungs. The aroma of apples brings a smile to your face as you slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth. Walking into the orchard, Winding through the row of trees, You are amazed at just how different the apple trees are. As you pluck the low-hanging fruit from the branches, You study each and every apple as if it was a work of art. No two seem alike, Even though they came from the same tree. You and Mr. Honey Bee gravitate toward the same kind of apples, And you both reach up to pick one of the bright green Granny Smith apples. Before you can say anything, Mr. Honey Bee speaks your mind and says exactly what you are thinking. How many types of apples are there? Oh, That's a good question, Mr. Honey Bee. I was just thinking about that too. Look how different these apples are. This one is bright green, But this one is yellow. Hmm, I would assume there are just as many types of apples as there are people. What? Really? Yes. Think of it like this. You have a family tree, Don't you? Yes, Of course we do. Generations of Grandma and Grandpa Honey Bees that we've traced back for centuries. Melody Bee plucks two apples, Not only from the same tree, But from the same branch, And she holds them up so we can see their reddish-green patterns. These two apples are sisters. Sisters aren't exactly alike, Right? Neither are these apples. And new apple varieties are made all the time by, Well, Yours truly, Honey Bees and other pollinators like me. We mix and match pollen like people match outfits to start new apple family trees that are most pleasing to our senses. But apples have minds of their own, And you couldn't get this pink apple if you tried. They're all little happy accidents. Happy, Delicious accidents. So, If we planted these seeds from this exact apple and pollinated it with pollen from the other pink apple seed, They wouldn't create another pink apple? Well, They might. Maybe. Apple pollen might sneak in one day on a light breeze, And bam! You, Sir, Have an orange apple. Wow. So that's how we have so many apple varieties. We need to try each and every one. And don't even get me started about weather conditions. That determines what kind of apple you get, And all the colors and everything. Weather conditions? Like, How warm is it? Mostly how cold it is. This orchard is in the perfect location, Somewhat higher in altitude, So the temperature probably dips down low at night. Apple trees are much sleepier than they look. Me, You, And Mr. Honeybee all immediately look to the apple trees and think to ourselves, As if with one mind, That we didn't think apple trees slept at all. Apple trees sleep? Don't be silly, Mr. Honeybee. Oh, Yeah, Yeah. Of course they sleep. I was just teasing. Right. How long do apple trees need to sleep, Melody Bee? No less than all winter. They hibernate like bears, As you know. Of course we knew trees hibernate like bears. Exactly. You get it. What is the dormancy temperature of apple trees again, Mr. Honeybee? Oh, The dormancy temperature is, Um, Well of course, As everyone knows, It's about, Um, A little around freezing? You got lucky with that one. But around there, Yes, Mr. Honeybee. When it gets all nice and cold and wintery, All the apple trees in the orchard have a sleepover and fall fast asleep. That's what helps them blossom, Then grow sweet, Delicious fruits. Now that you know all there is to know about apples and apple varieties, You meander through the orchard with Harold happily trotting at your side. You fill up your basket with all kinds of apples, Ranging in color and size and softness. Lifting one of the firmest apples up to your nose, Take a slow, Deep breath in. Smell its sweetness and imagine all the tasty desserts this can be made into. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and join us back at the entrance where we combine all of our apples into our tote bags for the trip home. Before we leave, Though, You want to try something special. You have the great idea that before we leave, We should pollinate some apples and create our own varieties. Melody Bee brought just enough of her Transformation Pollen with her to help it along and grow even faster. You grab a little bit of pollen from a bright green apple and a tiny bit of pollen from a yellow apple. With a sprinkle of the Transformation Pollen, You have grown a blue apple. You eagerly pluck it from its branch and Mr. Honey Bee inspects it to make sure there aren't any worms. Unless we want to be led on another adventure to the ancestral lands of another worm, But your apple is wormless. You take a big bite and enjoy the sweetness and juiciness like you've never enjoyed an apple before, With an appreciation for all the work that goes into creating it. With that, Our trip to the apple orchard concludes and we're able to catch the last bus back home. We climb aboard, Struggling to hold all of our harvest in our hands and draped in bags over our shoulders. It's a relief to set them down on the bus seats as we enjoy the short ride back home, Looking out the windows at the sunset. Our arms are full of apples, Our hearts and bellies are full of joy and sweetness. Always remember, Mrs. Honey Bee believes in you. You are special and you are loved. I can't wait to see you again. Bedtime with Mrs. Honey Bee Today, In the Honey Bee neighborhood, We'll be doing. . . Wait, What are we going to do, Mr. Honey Bee? Does this say. . . Ninja training! Hi-ya! Hi-ya! Hi-ya! We're training to become ninjas? Hi-ya! All you have to do is close your eyes, Get cozy and listen to the sound of my voice. Mrs. Honey Bee will be your guide. Let's begin. You are here, Walking up the driveway towards our wide open garage. The sun is shining down on you, Warming your skin as you peek your head in to say hello. Assuming that Mr. Honey Bee is busily tinkering away at his workbench on the other side. What you see takes you by surprise. Hi-ya! Mr. Honey Bee has blindfolded himself and is standing in front of a piece of wood he just chopped in half with his bare hands. He is wearing his white karate gi and pauses for a moment to complete his karate chop before he removes his blindfold and sees you standing at the garage door. Why, Hello there, My little Honey Bee. I didn't see you. Well, I guess you saw me, Not see you. I'm working on my chop. I mean, My strike-up. As Mr. Honey Bee sets another series of wood boards up for more striking practice, You wander around his garage to see several stations where he has clearly been practicing different moves. Your curiosity leads you back out of the garage and into the sunshine, Where more obstacle courses, Training materials, And mats are set up for various karate endeavors. Before you can figure out for yourself what exactly all this stuff is, Mr. Honey Bee joins you out in the front lawn, Obviously eager to tell you about what he spent the whole morning doing. For as long as I can remember, I've been telling Mrs. Honey Bee, And Melody Bee actually, That they need to get on board with this karate stuff. They don't believe me. They just don't understand how cool martial arts are. Not just cool, But skillful. You know, My little Honey Bee, You can strike and chop with the best of them. Well, Today, Once Mrs. Honey Bee and Melody Bee get back from the grocery store, They are finally going to learn how cool karate is. Welcome to Mr. Honey Bee's Ninja Academy. You look around out into the neighborhood to see that Mr. Honey Bee has set up an elaborate network of obstacle courses laying in wait for their newest, Unsuspecting students. Across the way, There's a rope climbing station to work on upper body strength. Rows of tires lined up two by two to work on agility and focus. And Harold rounds the corner from finishing his appointed task. Good boy, Harold. That's a good boy. Did you hide the scrolls for Mrs. Honey Bee and Melody Bee? Any ninja worth their salt, Or maybe their bonito flakes, Is tasked with carrying out the most difficult and important of missions. You hid the top secret ancient scrolls somewhere good, Right boy? Excellent. Our two newest ninjas will have to retrieve them and safely transport them back to headquarters, Which is just the garage. But today, It's the headquarters of the Ninja Academy. As always, I will need your help training Mrs. Honey Bee and Melody Bee. I have your karate gi inside. I'll go grab them. Mr. Honey Bee comes back out with your white karate uniform for you to change into. When you do, He has one last important part of your uniform. Mr. Honey Bee walks up to you and solemnly bows his head before presenting you with a strip of cloth in your favorite color that he ties around your head. Now you are ready to brush up on your ninja skills. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Still your mind like the skilled martial artist you are, Who is in perfect control of their physical form and ready for anything. Then, Slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and remember your training. Reconnect with your strength and skillfully strike and chop your way through each obstacle that Mr. Honey Bee set up around the neighborhood. You chop right through two blocks of wood with ease. The rope with rounded knots that sway in the wind is no match for you. Grabbing hold of the rope until it is taut, You reach up to begin climbing. Right hand, Left hand, Right hand, Left hand. Your feet softly wrap around the rope and slide up under you, Just enough to stabilize you until you get to the very top. From there, Mr. Honey Bee cheering you on from the ground, You leap from the rope as if you can fly. Do a double flip on the way down and land crouching on two feet, Solidly planted in the grass and your arms out to either side. You are unstoppable. At the end of the obstacle course, There's a kicking station where you practice none other than Mr. Honey Bee's favorite move. This is where we become tornadoes. Here, Let's work on our spinning roundhouse kicks, My little Honey Bee. Before you, There's a heavy red bag with a target drawn in the center. From there, You focus your mind on that circle and let everything else in the entire world melt away. Take another slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Strengthen each of your muscles to bring your awareness to the power you have within you. Then, Slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and prepare yourself to do a spinning roundhouse kick with a focused, Balanced stance. Like a strike of lightning, In one smooth motion, You jump up, Whip yourself around, And lift your leg level to the target. You hit the center of the target and then land the kick on two solidly planted feet just as Melody Bee and I turn into the driveway from the grocery store. We don't see you or Mr. Honey Bee down the street, And both of you instinctively engage your ninja skills to evade detection as we park the car and begin carrying the bags of groceries into the house. Our training has concluded, My little Honey Bee. We're ready, And soon they will be too. Come on! Melody Bee, Do you see Mr. Honey Bee in the garage? No, I don't see him. Or Harold. Harold! Usually they help us with the groceries. I wonder where they are. Hmm, I hope they're back soon. Mr. Honey Bee likes to do the chopping. I don't know why, But it's something he always loved to do, And we have a bunch of produce to be chopped up. I'm sure he's around. Maybe they went to the dog park. It's such a nice day out. Oh, I just remembered. Our little Honey Bee should be stopping by today, Too. Hmm, Maybe they're all three at the dog park. It's really a nice day. I just love this sunshine. Little did we know that you, Mr. Honey Bee, And Harold are moving incognito around us as we walk through the garage and into the kitchen with bags of groceries distracting us. Melody Bee buzzes as fast as she can to the counter to drop a heavy bag of carrots and bell peppers that will need to be chopped for a new stir-fry recipe that we're trying for dinner today. This goes here. Those veggies are heavier than they look. Mr. Honey Bee, Are you in the house? We have the choppables here, And they're in desperate need of an expert chopper. When Melody Bee doesn't get any sign of a response, She turns to buzz back out to the car. We pass by each other in a quick moment, And by the time they get into the house with the next couple of bags, You and Mr. Honey Bee have already chopped the whole bundle of carrots and all of the bell peppers. Wait, Harold did? Who chopped these? Mr. Honey Bee, Are you home? Nope, Doesn't look like it. I called out for him already. What? What? Did you already chop these veggies, Mrs. Honey Bee? No, I didn't. I thought Mr. Honey Bee did. But you just brought these in, Right? Yes, Like five seconds ago. I told you we have ghosts. I told you. Why would ghosts chop our veggies? They're helpful ghosts, And they're obviously hungry. There has to be an explanation. Well, I'll bring the last bag in, And then we can figure it out. I got Harold his most favorite treats. Melody Bee slightly shakes the box of treats before setting it down on the counter, And that's more than Harold can resist. He leaps out from his ninja hiding spot and gallops toward the treats. What? Where did you come from? Were you dreaming again? You sleep so deeply when you dream. Dear boy, Do what we practiced. Sit pretty. Harold sits up with his paws up in the air, All but begging for a delicious treat. He gets one since he does such a good job, But his eyes stand up. To continue putting away the groceries with Melody Bee? Suddenly, Everything changes. All the curtains and blinds close. The house goes completely dark, Even though outside it is bright and sunny. That's when Melody Bee and I see the maze of lasers, Which Mr. Honey Bee flicks on with a hidden switch for this very moment. Red lines of light are drawn throughout the house, Creating an agility course made to train the most nimble of ninjas in training. And today, Melody Bee and I know that is us. Ninja Academy? Yes, Melody Bee. I think we are. You and Mr. Honey Bee flip down from what seems like the ceiling and somehow navigate through each of the laser lines before landing on two solidly planted feet each. Melody Bee and I are wide-eyed, Secretly hoping we don't have to make our way through the laser maze, But knowing deep down that there's no way we're getting out of this, Except through the maze of lasers. Oh, You want to be a ninja, Do ya? Honestly, Not really. What? Come on, You don't mean that. Look, I set up all the lasers. The lasers look really nice, My dear. Thank you. Finally, Some appreciation for the way and the life of the ninja. Now, Where were we? We were at the part where I think, If I can remember correctly, Honey Bee. Where'd you learn to jump kick like that? Mr. Honey Bee's Ninja Academy, Of course. Under your and Mr. Honey Bee's skillful instruction, Melody Bee and I don our karate gi with strips of cloth around our foreheads and bend every which way, Backwards and forwards, To slink through the laser maze obstacle course with precision. Once completed, We move on to the kicks, Which you demonstrate for us with the utmost skill. You show Melody Bee and I how your breath and your balance are the secret keys to your hardest kick. Our little Honey Bee is right. It's important to not hold your breath during a kick. That limits the strike and power in the move. Together, We bring our awareness back to the core of our being, Where our ninja strength and powers wait for us to engage them. We take a slow, Deep breath in through our noses. Clear your mind of anything besides a laser focus on your abilities, What you can do, And how well you can do it. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and use your powerful belly muscles to empty your lungs of air that creates a tornado-like force of a kick. Melody Bee and I continue on through all the obstacles until we're ready to begin our mission, Our first duty as newly initiated ninjas. As if starting a race, Harold barks to let us know that he has hidden top-secret ancient scrolls somewhere in the Honey Bee neighborhood and we are to find them. We all flip, Fly, And slink through the neighbor's yards, Completely undetected. Melody Bee spots a sign for where the scrolls could be hidden. You have taught us well because they are there. Once retrieved, Melody Bee and I officially graduate Mr. Honey Bee's Ninja Academy and we continue learning from you the best of the best, How to improve our kicks, Stabilize our balance, And become one with the force of our own power for good. Always remember, Mrs. Honey Bee believes in you. You are special and you are loved. I can't wait to see you again. Bedtime with Mrs. Honey Bee Today, In the Honey Bee neighborhood, We'll be constructing the perfect summer day. What's your perfect summer day, Mrs. Honey Bee? Hmm, I'll have to think about that. What about yours, My dear? I love relaxing in the sunshine. But, Hmm, It's hard to say what the perfect summer day would be. What about you, Melody Bee? Easy. The perfect summer day is playing in the sprinklers. Oh, Oh, No, No, No, No. It's going to the beach. Oh, Oh, No, No, No, No. It's having a pool party. Oh, No, No, No, No. Not so simple of a question to answer, Huh? I guess not. How are we going to figure this out? We'll have to become summer day detectives and experiment with all the best possible summer days. Let's finally get to the bottom of this age-old question. What does the most perfectest summer day entail? All you have to do is close your eyes, Get cozy, And listen to the sound of my voice. Mrs. Honey Bee will be your guide. Let's begin. You are here, Walking up to our porch on a beautifully sunny day. The sun is so bright that to see our smiling faces looking back at you from the cozy porch chairs, You have to shade your eyes a bit with your hands. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the coolness of the air coming in through your nose as the sunshine warms your skin. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and bend down to catch Harold in your arms as he runs toward you with so much excitement. You scoop him up in your arms, And he wiggles every which way to make sure his puppy kisses don't miss a single spot. Hello, My little Honey Bee. You're here just in time to help us settle something we can't quite figure out. What do you think we should do today? It's so lovely outside. We want to soak up every sparkling moment of this perfect summer day. Obviously. That means we should go fishing and enjoy a lazy day on the Honey River. Obviously. Not so obvious. I think we're already having the most perfect summer day. A nice, Relaxing afternoon spent reading on the porch. That's it. That sounds like the best way to spend our time. Maybe after we have buzzed far and wide on Nepali. . . Oh, And tag. We have to play tag. In the sprinklers. You see, My little Honey Bee? We're at a standstill, And the morning is floating by. The sun will set before we know it. What do you think sounds best? You think to yourself for a moment, Petting Harold's fluffy ears to help you focus on the task at hand. He looks up at you with his happy brown eyes, And you remember that there isn't ever just one way. There are usually multiple ways, Which are all great, But for different reasons. Because of that, You look back to us, Eagerly awaiting your judgment, And gleefully suggest that we do all of them. Hmm. That's a really good idea, My little Honey Bee. How else can we determine, With scientific precision, What makes the most perfectest summer day, Besides actually doing all the options? Great idea as always, Little Honey Bee. So, The only question left is, What do we do first? Well, If we start with a pollination adventure, That could lead us to the Honey River for a lazy fishing afternoon. Then, We can end with a relaxing read on the porch. Let's do it! Harold leads the way, With Melody Bee buzzing closely behind. She's sniffing out some flowers for us to see, And is excited to see them for herself. We set off into this summertime adventure, With our faces to the sunshine, And our smiles big. Take another slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel your chest and your spirits lift, Excited for this day, And all the possibilities it will bring. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth, And peruse the colorful flowers as they come into view, Lining the sidewalks, And even breaking through the cracks. Melody Bee started, Then quickly stopped a game of tag to admire one of these little yellow dandelions, Who managed to crack through the concrete with a force much greater than we assume it had. Damn, He broke through the sidewalk and poked up his head just to say hello. Do you know how. . . At Melody Bee's suggestion, We all try our best to follow in the footsteps of this earth-shattering dandelion, And break through the concrete that stays stubbornly in place. Phew, This sidewalk isn't going anywhere, At least not until the next dandelion or tree root decides it wants some sunshine. Who knew such a tiny-looking flower could choose to reach up and break apart something so strong? Melody Bee gathers a bit of the bright yellow pollen in her satchel and blows it a big kiss to pollinate the dandelion. As we walk, We begin to notice all the places where plants and flowers have broken through the asphalt and concrete, Substances we consider so strong that they are chosen as the foundation of our civilization. Not so, Or so we learn. We pollinate and play tag all the way to the banks of the Honey River, Where Mr. Honey Bee's fishing boat lays up against the trunk of a tree waiting for us. The refreshing sounds of a cool river seem to be calling us, And since we've been out in the sun for so long, We are excited to answer that call. We lean down to splash our hands and feet in the water. Harold belly-flops into the river like he usually does, Then hops in the boat and shakes off all his fur, Sprinkling us with a refreshing mist that glistens in the sunshine on our skin. Are you all ready for the most perfect summer day activity? I think we already had that, Mr. Honey Bee. But this is a close second. I'll give you that. If only this boat floated to the porch and had a bookshelf, Then I think it would be the most perfect. Not wanting to waste any more summertime with debate, Harold shepherds us out onto the water. We push off the shore and let the little fishing boat float as it pleases along the currents of the Honey River. Take another slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the coolness of the air coming in through your nose like its own river that finds its way directly to your lungs. Allow the fresh air to invigorate you, Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth until every last drop of air is released and let yourself feel heavy in the boat, Supported and floating effortlessly. Ah, This is it. This is the best right here. Mr. Honey Bee kicks up his bare feet on the side of the boat and leans all the way back with his hands behind his head and his hat over his eyes for a little snooze. To give this activity a fair try, We all follow suit and stretch out to soak in the sunshine and fresh air. Look all the way to one side toward the endless Honey River until you can feel a little stretch. Then look all the way to the other side where you can see the river rolling down from the mountain until you can feel a little stretch on that side too. Bring your head back to a comfortable center and clear your mind of any intruding thoughts, Worries, Or concerns. Like Mr. Honey Bee who has now fallen asleep, Let yourself float and nothing else. We're just floating, Floating, Floating down the Honey River. Our fishing poles hang over the edge of the boat with our feet doing most of the work for us. While the river does the rest, We achieve a deep, Restorative relaxation that lulls us to a sunshine nap. When fish nibble the bait on our lines, We wake up to see them, Say hi, And toss them back in the river with extra bait for their fish friends and family. We continue on down the river, Doing nothing at all and enjoying it thoroughly, Especially after such an active adventure to the banks of the Honey River pollinating almost every flower we came across. When the boat gently floats onto the shore, Back in the direction from where we came, We hop out and stroll our way back home to enjoy our last summertime activity before making a decision about which is the most perfectest. Now, On to what I'm sure you all will find to be the best summer day activity. To start, It's crucial to begin noticing the little thing, Appreciating the colors and textures and feeling of each moment we move into and out of. Let's walk through the grass without our shoes on. We notice the colorful butterflies that fly by, The sweet smell of ripening strawberries, And feel the soft grass bending beneath our feet with each step. Right foot, Left foot, Right foot, Left foot. When we get back home to our front porch, Our favorite books are waiting for us, Along with fresh-squeezed lemonade and iced tea. I bring us little nibbles of watermelon and other summer fruits to enjoy at our leisure as we sink into our second-favorite worlds. Because as we all know, The honeybee neighborhood is our first-favorite one. We're missing a bit of the movement floating on the river, But this is nice, Especially as an end to a fun-filled day. See? I told you this was the best. Whoa, Whoa, Whoa. I wouldn't go that far, My dear. Yeah, We haven't put it up for a vote. What do you think, Little honeybee? Harold captures the mood with a big yawn as you think about your answer. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Bring your awareness to the sensation of your heart beating once, Twice, Three times, Overflowing with joy. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and reflect on just how much fun you've had today. While you can't come to an easy conclusion, You do see a pattern forming in your final judgment of what constitutes the most perfectest summer day. You ask us what these three activities all have in common, And we puzzle over the question as we relax on the porch. Before any of us can give our answers, Harold is distracted by a little bird that swoops down to entice him into a game of tag, Which Melody Bee happily joins without invitation. Mr. Honeybee laughs and follows along until he makes it over to his garage where he has his new fishing pole waiting. Without thinking about it, He uses the last bit of sunshine to help him polish it up until it sparkles. He lugs out his new tackle box and carefully organizes all the different baits he has into the little squares. He tries on his new fishing vest and calls you over to try on yours. It has plenty of pockets, Which is an improvement from your old tattered vest that has been used up until the last threads cannot hold it together anymore. I smile at everyone and lean back in my favorite rocking chair, Feeling grateful that you and I and Mr. Honeybee and Melody Bee and Harold get to spend all this time together, No matter what we're doing, And that is when I realize the answer to your question. As Melody Bee chases Harold and Harold chases her back, As Mr. Honeybee proudly holds up his gleaming fishing pole that is just about ready for his next fishing trip, As we sit back and relax on the porch, Sipping sweet lemonade and nibbling on delicious snacks without a care in the world, We realize that the most perfectest summer day is exactly what we're doing. It doesn't have to be anything special in particular. We could spend the sunshine hours doing nothing much at all, But if we're doing it together, We're doing it right. That togetherness makes memories and summertime is for sweet, Fun memories. We let that realization sink in as we sink into our chair. You eventually cannot resist Harold and Melody's game of tag and Mr. Honeybee cannot resist showing you a new technique for casting a fishing line. I sit back and watch all of these memories take place without any of you noticing, And for that, I am beyond grateful. To have discovered what makes the most perfect summer day. Always remember, Mrs. Honeybee believes in you. You are special and you are loved. I can't wait to see you again. Bedtime with Mrs. Honeybee Today, In the Honeybee neighborhood, We'll be going fossil hunting. An excavation exploration. Does every adventure have to rhyme? Can't we just go fossil hunting this time? Ah, My dear, Even that rhymed. You know the answer to your question. Yes, Of course every adventure we go on has to rhyme. Excavation exploration, Here we come. All you have to do is close your eyes, Get cozy, And listen to the sound of my voice. Mrs. Honeybee will be your guide. Let's begin. You are here, Walking up to our brightly colored door, Extra excited to knock today. Before you can, Melody Bee flings open the door as if she was waiting for you on the other side, Dressed head to toe in beige safari gear. I was waiting for your footsteps on the other side of the door. Aren't you excited for today? We're going on the. . . We know where we're going. We do not have to say it each time, Melody Bee. Hello, My little Honeybee. Here's your hat and your vest. Come inside. We're just about ready to leave. Harold finally wakes up from his nap and groggily runs over to greet you with puppy kisses. He shows off his brand new collar and saddlebags that he can carry all on his own. Since we strapped them on like a backpack, He has refused to take them off. Harold, Can you please hold our sunscreen? We're going to need plenty out in the desert. Oh, Mrs. Honeybee, Are you ready for the. . . The thing we're doing today that does not have to rhyme. Yes, I'm coming. I'll be right there. My little Honeybee, You're here. Is it time for the excavation exploration? So funny you ask, Because yes, It is time for. . . Excavation exploration. I guess there's no avoiding it. If you can't beat them, Join them. That's right. What will you be joining us for, Though, Mr. Honeybee? On the excavation exploration. We pack all of our supplies and excitement into the car. There's so much of both that it can hardly fit. But once we puzzle it all in, We begin the long journey out to the Honeybee neighborhood desert. An ancient site with deeply buried historical significance. During a recent construction project, An ancient sundial was discovered there. The construction project stalled indefinitely, And the desert location has been somewhat abandoned ever since. Because of that, Even more recently, Harold stumbled, Or rather, Sniffed upon something much bigger, Much, Much bigger than anyone could have anticipated. There wasn't just human history buried out there. Oh, No. The more-than-human world also keeps their long-buried secrets out there, All for us to find, To excavate, And bring back to life. I've never actually been up here. This is my first desert trip, Too, Little Honeybee. It's so pretty. It's worth the long drive. But don't worry. I came prepared with all our favorite songs. I created a special playlist. Mr. Honeybee, You were giving Melody Bee so much trouble about the rhyming adventure name. And look! Look what you named the playlist. Weird. Melody Bee must have named it or something. Hey, No I didn't. What did he name it, Mrs. Honeybee? Let me see. Look. Excavation Exploration. Afternoon tune. Color me impressed, Mr. Honeybee. I didn't know you were a poet. So strange how it got named that. What a weird technical glitch. Mr. Honeybee lulls us all to sleep, Denying the charges, Long after we've stopped listening to him deny it. The road trip playlist itself is wonderful, No matter what it's named. And you smile to yourself in the back seat, Looking out the window, Watching the landscape change. Oak trees turn to cacti as the desert takes over. Harold scratches at the sides of his carrier for you to take him out and hold him on your lap. With Harold on your lap, We enjoy the rest of our peaceful road trip out to the desert. He yawns a big yawn that invites you to lay your head down too and close your eyes. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Allow your mind to be as wide open as this desert, Just as expansive and peaceful. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and fall asleep to the quiet sounds of Harold snoring on your lap for what feels like the blink of an eye. We're here. Harold bursts out of the door as soon as you open it and crash lands in the sand. Without missing a beat, He rolls the landing and races out into the desert. Here, My little honeybee, Be sure to put enough sunscreen on. Don't forget the tip of your nose. The sun is extra sunny out here. As soon as you step out of the car, You can feel the difference in the landscape. It's dry out in the desert, And that makes the sun feel even warmer on your skin. Luckily, You came prepared with a big, Brown, Floppy hat to shade your face and plenty of layers to protect you from the hot sun. You fill your pockets and your satchel with all your tools. A small brush that looks like a paintbrush, But is for brushing clean our findings. Your camera to record what you find, Your notebook, Measuring tape, And a little guidebook on unearthing fossils. You are ready for this excavation exploration. Harold knows exactly where to go. We'll just follow him. Oh, Yeah. I forgot to tell you, My little honeybee. Harold has been doing some volunteer work as a search and rescue pup. He and his pals came out here to rescue a lost hiker. They found him no problem, But their noses also tracked down other interesting scents. He's been asking to come out here all week. Harold knows something good is buried in this ancient ground, And I believe him when he knows. Me too. Have you ever tried playing hide-and-seek with that dog? Woof! It's barely even a game. He finds me so fast. It looks like he stopped up there. Did you find something, Boy? Harold is trained to sit down on scents that are interesting, And that is how we know where to dig. He can barely contain his excitement. Not only is his tail wagging, But the rest of him can't help but wiggle until we join him on his selected spot. Should we start digging here, Boy? Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the coolness of the air coming in through your nose, Finding its way to your lungs and expanding out your chest. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and sit down on the sandy ground to begin digging beside Harold. While you use your new hand shovel, Harold digs right in with his paws. His tail wagging and his bottom up high in the air, He quickly creates a large hole before any of us can get through the dry, Cracked ground. Instead, We follow Harold's lead once again and help him dig an even deeper hole. We dig and dig until. . . Was that something? It looks like it might be. Let me climb down in there with you, Mr. Honeybee. Can you grab my hand? Of course, My dear. Jump down. There's plenty of room beside our little honeybee. Maybe it's a rock? Let's try digging a bit more around it. It's stuck in there pretty good. Harold digs the rest of the way around the finding and you follow behind his paws with a brush to slightly sweep away any debris so we can get a better look at what this is. It's pale brown, An ivory color, Like a. . . Bone! This is a bone. And a huge one at that. Look, It keeps going and going and going. Harold busily unearths the top of an 80-foot-long bone. Not just any bone, Though. It's a dinosaur bone. Maybe. This is a dinosaur bone if I've ever seen one. But I've never seen one, So I can't be sure. Let me do some research really quick. While Harold continues to dig, You take pictures of the findings and Mr. Honeybee uploads it to a database for help to identify it. It looks like. . . This is. . . Definitely a dinosaur. At this size, It could have been a whale bone, But. . . How can a whale be in the desert? This wasn't always a desert, Melody Bee. Long, Long ago, There was much more water on the surface of the earth. And water has moved around, So sometimes you can find whale bones in forests and everything. But this isn't a whale bone. This looks like a. . . What? What is it? Please, Please, Please be a triceratops. A triceratops! Ha ha ha! Today is your lucky day, Melody Bee. Wow! Imagine what the earth looked like when this dino was romping around. It's hard to imagine a dinosaur in the Honeybee neighborhood, But they were here all over the place. And now one is back. Let's finish digging it up and putting it back together. Oh! It's like a. . . By now, Harold has unearthed the whole triceratops fossil. It sparkles in the light of day for the first time in what could be millennia. Working along the same path as Harold, We follow behind his expert digging with our tools to excavate and investigate the miraculous findings. As we unearth piece by piece, Mr. Honeybee consults a 3D rendering of a triceratops that could be put back together. Jigsawing the biggest, Most important puzzle we've ever done, We build out a triceratops dinosaur from the gargantuan feet up. It stands at about 10 feet tall and over 30 feet long, Including a tail. Its three horns stand up prominently on its flounce. According to this, Triceratops have three horns on their flounce, Also called a frill, That was used as a sort of body armor. It helped them protect their neck from predators. Whoa! Does it have a beak? It looks like it. Yes, Actually it does. Despite how huge triceratops are, They are herbivores and only eat plants, Mainly shrubs. Here's another part of its beak. Oh yes, That goes right here. It looks like we've almost put this whole dinosaur back together. Can you believe it? We just have this one last toe bone, My little honey bee. Do you want to do the honors of completing the Honey Bee Neighborhood's first ever dinosaur fossil? Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the sensation of your heart beating once, Twice, Three times to connect with the friendly creature who you're about to fully rebuild. Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and nestle the toe bone into the humongous foot. We stand back to admire the fossil in all of its elephant-like size and the history this incredible creature represents. Harold disrupts the silence with concern. What is it, Boy? That's when we realize that the toe bone you just puzzled back together has moved as if it's stretching. Harold jumps out in front of us to make sure we're protected. And we cautiously watch as the foot bones rattle and the tail bone begins to sway in the slight desert breeze. Is that just the wind moving the triceratops? Please say that's just the wind. I wish I could say that, Mr. Honey Bee, But I don't think it is. As if waking up from a million-year nap, The triceratops fossil we just reconstructed continues to rattle and move each of its newly replaced bones. You know what? Maybe this can wait. Mr. Honey Bee plucks a toe out of the rattling skeleton and it once again resumes perfect stillness. We can't bring this dinosaur friend back to life and just leave back home. Like, Hey, Good morning. You've been sleeping for eons. Enjoy the desert. Alone. Melody Bee's right. We can't just leave it out here. I know, I know. I agree. We can't drive back home with a dinosaur in the backseat, Though. What if we take it apart, Go back home, And build it a nice little, I mean, Huge terrarium? It can go right next to the unicorn stable. They'll have so much fun together, Eventually. I hope. Oh, No. I'm sure they'll be great friends once they get to know each other. And the dinosaur will have all it needs until then. Let's pack it back up, Team. We gently disassemble the triceratops until we can have a proper introduction once we're home. The bones are too long to fit in the car, So you and Mr. Honey Bee carefully pack them up and strap them to the top of the car. It will be a much slower drive home, So we don't lose any of the bones on the highway. Once we get home, Mr. Honey Bee gets right to work building a terrarium for the dinosaur. It's big enough for a triceratops, To romp around freely and have access to all it needs, Which we will need to figure out over time. With the terrarium built out in the backyard, Between the garden and the unicorn stable, We painstakingly put our new friend back together, Piece by piece, Bone by bone. Again, We arrive at the very last toe bone, Which rests in your hand. You feel an enormous sense of honor and pride putting this fossil back together, And you do not take the task lightly. Take your slowest, Deepest breath in through your nose. Strengthen each and every one of your muscles to reconnect with your own strength that you hold deep inside. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and replace the toe bone as you allow your own bones to be jelly. We stand back, Wondering if it will happen again, And it does. This time, Our triceratops fossil is more awake, Still very groggy and disoriented, But awake nonetheless. We officially have a dinosaur to take care of now, My little honey bee. We couldn't have such success on our excavation exploration without you. Like the bestest friend, You and Melody Bee set out plenty of fresh veggies for our herbivore friend and allow it to wake up from its sleep slowly without too much disturbance. Once it wakes up, We can get to know the triceratops more. But for now, We watch and wonder. Always remember, Mrs. Honey Bee believes in you. You are special and you are loved. I can't wait to see you again. Bedtime with Mrs. Honey Bee Today, In the honey bee neighborhood, We'll be taking a ski trip. Oh, Harold. Did you put your snowshoes on all by yourself? He was trying to. It's tough when you've got paws, So I gave him a hand. Get it? Good one, Dear. But what are the chopsticks for, My dear? Well, I couldn't find skis in extra, Extra, Extra, Extra, Extra small for Melody Bee, So I made her some. You turned chopsticks into skis? Buzz, Buzz, Buzz. Aren't they awesome? Thanks, Mr. Honey Bee. My pleasure, Melody Bee. I'm so excited to see you hit the slopes. I can imagine it already. A little bee on skis will be quite a sight to see. All you have to do is close your eyes, Get cozy, And listen to the sound of my voice. Mrs. Honey Bee will be your guide. Let's begin. You are here in the honey bee neighborhood, Walking around the corner to our driveway. It's cloudy and cool out today, The perfect day to actually leave on our annual ski trip. The clouds will bring a blanket of fresh snow to the mountains, And we will enjoy ourselves skiing, Snowboarding, And sledding down them. And just think of all the snow people we can build. A smile comes across your face, Thinking about all the fun we'll have as you walk up to the brightly colored front door. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the coolness of the chilly air coming in through your nose and rounding out your chest. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and knock on the door. You can hear Harold's distant bark from inside the house, Like usual, And Melody Bee following close behind. We all answered the door in record time today because we're just so excited. Hello, My little honey bee. Ah, You look all nice and cozy in your snow jacket. And earmuffs? Here are mine. And here are mine. Harold, Do your floppy ears need earmuffs? Or are your earmuffs kind of built in? I think his are built in. He's got a coat of fur on at all times. Hello, My little honey bee. We were waiting for you to get here so we can head out on our ski trip. Or sledding trip, If skiing ends up not going as well as I think it won't go. Melody Bee, You just accidentally talked yourself out of a gloomy outlook with a double negative, And it's a good thing. You learned how to ride a bike, A horse. What are a couple skis? Wobbly. Two skis are wobbly, Mrs. Honey Bee. Come on, We can talk about this on the ride up the mountain. Do you want to drive, My little honey bee? Just kidding. I hope you all fall asleep so I get to enjoy my tunes. Mr. Honey Bee, Did you make another playlist? More importantly, Does it have a rhyming name? No, What? Why would I? No, Definitely not. I definitely didn't create a snow themed playlist. You so did. Let me see that thing. There's nothing to see. Let honey bee. Why can't you admit you love rhyming adventures, Huh? I will admit no such thing. What's it called, Melody Bee? Oh, You mean the ski trip musicianship playlist? Ski trip musicianship. Not bad. Do you know how hard it is to rhyme ski trip? Seems easier than sledding because Melody Bee is terrified of skis trip. Harold shepherds us back out the front door and into the car so we don't delay his snow play any longer than absolutely necessary. We hop in the car, Squished in between all our snow stuff and head out to the majestic mountains. From here, The mountains don't seem as mammoth as we know they are. They're dressed up with their finest snow caps just like us and it even starts to snow as we approach. We begin the long, Slow incline up the side of the mountain swirling around and around the winding roads. Slowly we go higher and higher. Your ears adjust to the altitude and continue to adjust with each turn we round, Each turn to go higher. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the coolness of the fresh mountain air coming in through your nose and expanding your chest out. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and feel how the warmth in your heart has transformed even the chilliest air. Looking out your window, Back from where we came, You see your little chunk of the honeybee neighborhood get so small it seems to disappear. Now, You're officially on vacation, Swept away from the schedules, Worries and concerns of everyday life. Our perspective and our spirits lift on the drive up. By the time we arrive, We are more than ready to enjoy the snow in all our different ways. Harold is intent on snowshoeing and has practiced as much as he could on the grass in preparation. Melody Bee will try skis but has pretty much already relegated herself to sledding. I will be skiing because that's my favorite. Mr. Honeybee will be snowboarding like he's always done since he was a kid. Everyone gets to choose their favorite snow day activity and we will go down the bunny hill first to get acclimated and practice on real snow. Then we'll decide how high up we want to go. What is your favorite? You can do anything you like. You help Melody Bee grab her sled and her tiny skis as you bring out what snow supplies you'll need. Together, We head to the chairlift, Harold confidently leading the way in his snowshoes. We're just going on the bunny hills first, Right? That's right. We'll warm up and get adjusted. Then the fun really begins. Are there bunnies on the bunny hill? I hope so. Otherwise, It would be false advertising. We make our way through the soft snow up to the chairlift. The bunny slope is nearby. We can see it from here. Just a little friendly hill that's easy to navigate. But as we hop up onto the chairlift, We see another one across the way that goes so high it looks like it lifts you right into the clouds. That's the double black diamond lift. Oh. It looks really high. They should name it something much less pretty. Diamonds are pretty. Maybe it could be called Beware Slope. Or Gargoyle Slope. Something like that. Get ready, Everyone. Here's our exit. Next stop, Bunny hill. We all hold our hands out to the side as the chairlift delivers us to a small, Steep slope that lets us off the lift before it goes back down to get more passengers. You ready yourself, Aiming your feet for the top of the slope, Waiting to feel the gentle push of your weight bearing down. With our hands out, Reaching for each other, We get to the top of the steep slope and are flung down. At first, We all stay standing, Gliding along the top of the snow, But then a little gust of wind gets the better of us and our graceful gliding falls down into a frantic rolling until a snowbank stops us. Harold is not slowed down, But by the crash landing, He pops right back up, Proud in his snowshoes, And continues on to the slope. We follow him, Inspired by his excitement and confidence. At the top of the slope, We look down the path we will slide down and are delighted to see there are indeed bunnies on the bunny hill. Little fluffy white bunnies that blend in with powdery snow hop all around the hill helping skiers and snowboarders and sledders and snowshoers down the slope. They are so helpful that a group of them comes right up to us to make sure we're ready to go down, Which we are. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the coolness of the mountain air coming in through your nose and filling your lungs. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and push off the top of the slope to glide down, Down, Down. Mr. Honeybee and I, Harold and Melody Bee, Follow close behind you sliding down the hill with ease. That is, Until. . . Whoa, Whoa, Whoa! Quack, Quack! Pizza, Melody Bee. Remember? I'm not hungry, Mrs. Honeybee. No, Pizza on the skis. I'm falling. I can't possum. Melody Bee wobbles so much that she loses balance and rolls down the hill with her arms, Legs, And wings flailing in every direction. She rolls just as fast as we glide down and meets us at the bottom of the hill, Dizzy. I'm sledding. Skiing is for human legs and maybe horses. I'm sledding. Okay, Melody Bee. At least you tried. You put in an honest effort. I commend you for that. Phew, Okay. Now that that's out of the way, Which slope are we going on next? There are so many lifts. Well, We know that one goes to the bunny hill, Which we've already mostly mastered. Let's try that one next. Once again, We stand at the spot where the chair will swoop up under us and lift us up into the sky. We wait for it looking behind us to watch for its approach. Then, It lightly pushes behind our knees and we fall back into its sturdy seat, Situating ourselves as we lift into the sky. The view is beautiful from up here. The clouds in the sky are so puffy and softly colored that they somehow feel warm looking at them, Even though the tip of your nose tells you otherwise. Green pine trees that disappear beneath our dangling feet do their best to hold up the fallen snow on their branches. As we ascend higher in altitude up the mountain, It begins to snow. You wrap your scarf around your neck and a chilly draft gets in. Take another slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel your chest and your spirits lift as you lift up higher and higher. Then, Slowly breathe out through your mouth and use your strong belly muscles to breathe every last drop of air out so you can feel heavier here on this chairlift. Our exit quickly approaches and we once again ready ourselves for the steep slope. Holding each other's hands tight, We glide effortlessly down the ramp for a perfect landing. There are no bunnies on this hill, So we wonder to ourselves which slope we're on. That's when we see it. Oh no! Those are diamonds on that sign over there, Aren't they? Black ones. Oh no! Maybe those aren't diamonds. Maybe they're extra easy slopes. Maybe that means it's an extra easy slope. Maybe. I wouldn't get your hopes up if I were you, Melody B. Melody B stands at the top of the double black diamond slope with us, Frozen in fear. But Harold hops into action as if he was a bunny on the bunny hill helping her feel more confident on her sled. On the count of three, Two, One, We all push ourselves off and glide down the hill. A chilly but refreshing breeze blows against our cheeks as we shred the snow side to side, Gaining speed and confidence. You are out in front of Mr. Honeybee and I, Leading the way around tree trunks and jumping off of ramps on the way down. Mr. Honeybee picks up even more speed as he aims for an upcoming ramp. He soars off of it and does a backflip with his snowboard. He lands it perfectly and continues down the tall hill. You are up next. A ramp is quickly approaching. You have just enough time to pick up just enough speed to fling yourself off the ramp with expert form and do not one but two backflips. You land perfectly and I'm gliding right behind you. On the next ramp I too do a backflip and land once again right by your side. Together we make all the way down the slope before we realize we haven't heard from Harold or Melody Bee in a while. Hey, Where's Melody Bee and Harold? I saw them further up. They're on their way down slowly. By the time we see Harold and Melody Bee making their way down the rest of the slope we are already in the ski lodge looking out the big windows holding our hot cocoa with our snow gear draped over the wooden chairs. Melody Bee's eyes are wide still just as frozen in fear as she was at the top. Harold is dutifully nosing her down the hill not on her sled but on her bottom. The sled went too fast for her so Harold and Melody Bee scooted down the entire double black diamond slope as slow as possible. Harold! Harold! Slow down! We're going to. . . We walk outside of the lodge to meet Melody Bee and Harold with steaming hot cocoa and she is so happy to see us. When she gets to the bottom she has renewed confidence because she did it. With the help of her friend she actually did the whole slope. It doesn't matter how you do it just that you did it. Always remember Mrs. Honey Bee believes in you. You are special and you are loved. I can't wait to see you again. Bedtime with Mrs. Honey Bee Today in the Honey Bee neighborhood we'll need to put our detective hats on. Mr. Honey Bee is acting strange and he won't admit why. I'm not acting strange. I'm just busy working on stuff and things. You know, Stuff and things. What things? The thingy kind of stuff and the stuffy kind of things. Okay, Mr. Up to Something. Exactly! Sarcasm detected. Sarcasm detected. Wait, Who was that? All you have to do is close your eyes get cozy and listen to the sound of my voice. Mrs. Honey Bee will be your guide. Let's begin. You are here walking up the driveway toward our open garage. Mr. Honey Bee doesn't hear your footsteps as you peek in so you knock your knuckles softly on the garage door. When that doesn't get his attention convinced that you have no other option but to scare him when you announce yourself you walk loud heavy footsteps up to his workbench. With your hands laid gently on the black top of Mr. Honey Bee's workbench you are shocked he still doesn't see hear or sense you beside him. Take a slow deep breath in through your nose and sink into this moment of golden opportunity to give Mr. Honey Bee a fun little scare. Then slowly breathe a faint hello all the way out through your mouth and stand back for Mr. Honey Bee's inevitable reaction. Ah! Oh, Hello. Phew! Hello my little Honey Bee. Phew! You really got me with that one. I didn't hear you at all. Mr. Honey Bee turns around with his back to his workbench and asks how your day is going like he usually does. As you reply you notice something rather unusual behind his back his hands seem to still be tinkering moving about in contrast to his ears and eyes being fixed attentively on you. Before you can ask what he's working on with such busy hands today he has already bundled up a pile of metallic gadgets and gizmos and stowed them away in a tiny cubby that you've never noticed before in the corner of the garage. Let me just put this stuff away. Oh, It's nothing really just some trinkets and stuff it's nothing. He slides a small door shut before you can get a good look at what exactly he's stuffing in there. When you look at the corner of the garage again you realize that you can't even see the cubby hole when it's closed. Has that been there the whole time? You pause thinking this to yourself then turn to see that Harold has woken up from his nap. He and Melody B rush out into the garage to greet you with big hugs. Hello little honey bee it's so nice to see you. What are you looking at over there in the corner? Oh, Nothing. It's nothing. Let's head out into the garden. We were just on our way out there. Come on. Hello there my little honey bee. What are you heading out into the garden for? We weren't. Really? I could have sworn we were heading out to the garden. I pinky promise we had no plans to be in the garden. Really? Well, Let's get out of the garage and get some sunshine. You know, The human body cannot produce vitamin D on its own. It's metabolized by our skin cells cholesterol actually Melody B's eyes narrow listening to Mr. Honey Bee's impromptu explanation of vitamin D. It's well known by now that when people get nervous they over explain things. She looks at you then at me and we all look back at Mr. Honey Bee thinking the same thing. Mr. Honey Bee are you hiding something? What? No. Of course not. What would I? Why would? No way. Hmm. What's that on your workbench my dear? A new gadget? Mr. Honey Bee looks back to see that three yellow domes are still laying out on his workbench. One of the domes has an antenna on it which makes it look important. Oh. These are nothing. He rushes over to scoop them up still dazzling us with information about vitamin D and pushes them into the invisible cubby in the corner of the garage. They don't look like nothing. They look interesting. Wait. What is that hidden compartment? Are you hiding something? All of this is nothing my dear. Come on. I want to show you something that's actually something out in the backyard. Mr. Honey Bee all but corrals us through the door into the house and out into the backyard where he's visibly relieved. So what did you want to show us Mr. Honey Bee? Oh. I wanted to show you this flower. What is this flower? I saw it this morning and was just struck by its beauty. My dear that's a sunflower. The sunflowers have been here for months. Wow. Sunflowers are so nice. You sure are acting strange today Mr. Honey Bee. Really? Maybe I should go lie down. I do feel kind of woozy. Yes. Maybe that's a good idea. Phew. A midday nap never hurt anyone. You go do that my dear. I'm going to head upstairs with our little Honey Bee Melody Bee are you going to be out in the garden for a while? No. I was going to I thought you were going to repot all those flowers over there. Oh. Yes. I was going to repot all of those flowers. The ones over there. Thank you for reminding me Mrs. Honey Bee. Okay. Um. I'll be in my recliner if anyone needs me. Never take snaps. He sure doesn't. We need to let him think we're otherwise occupied. But we need to get to the bottom of this. Melody Bee meet us at the windowsill in a couple minutes. We're going to walk by Mr. Honey Bee so he thinks we're upstairs in my office writing. But I have a plan. Got it. We quietly and nonchalantly walk back through the house past Mr. Honey Bee reclined in his favorite chair pretending to sleep and up the stairs to my office where the desk sits by a window that overlooks the garden. This is where I first met Melody Bee long, Long ago. We spend a lot of time here devising stories. But today we'll instead devise a plan. After a short while Melody Bee buzzes up to the window to rest on the windowsill. When she arrives she has regretful news. I think I know what's going on Mrs. Honey Bee. What is it? It's obvious that Mr. Honey Bee is a spy. I don't know how we didn't see it before. Mr. Honey Bee is not a spy, Melody Bee. He's up to something though. I know him too well to not know what it is. I'll need your help. Both of you. Of course. Now I am a spy. As a newly minted spy Melody Bee will do a flutter-by mission and gather as much intel as she can. She starts immediately fluttering into the house passing by Mr. Honey Bee who is pretending to be asleep more dramatically this time. When she approaches the door to go out to the garage Mr. Honey Bee bolts up from his recliner and stops her in her tracks. Oh hey are you going out to the garage? I thought you were going to be in the garden all afternoon. Oh yeah I need some more twine to help the flowers stay up. They're getting so big that they're just kind of slumping down. Just getting twine. There's some in your tool chest that middle drawer. Remember? Is that okay Mr. Honey Bee? Oh, Okay. Yes, Of course. Of course. Sorry for waking you up Mr. Honey Bee. You seem to be sound asleep over there. Oh, It's no worry Melody Bee. I'm a light sleeper. Knowing full well that Mr. Honey Bee is anything but a light sleeper Melody Bee makes her way out to the garage and rummages through as many drawers as she can to make enough noise to get a good look in the cubby. She can't quite get it open but she hears something on the other side. It sounds like a voice. Nervousness slows her down and she hesitates to slide the cubby door open a moment too long. Mr. Honey Bee returns curious as to what's taking so long. Melody Bee is everything okay out here? Uh-huh. Just grabbing an extra pair of pruners. You know that pruning plants is a way to make them grow more? So funny, Huh? Who would have guessed? It's just like hair. If you want your hair to grow long you need to cut it. So weird, Right? As Melody Bee desperately flutters out of the garage to catch a relieving breath Mr. Honey Bee remembers that when someone gets nervous they tend to over-explain things. He wonders if we are up to something but dismisses the thought when he hears Melody Bee return to the garden. Little does he know she's fluttered back up to the windowsill to report her flutter-by findings. Mr. Honey Bee is most certainly a spy. We'll need to devise a more sneaky plan Mrs. Honey Bee and I hate to say it but I think we'll need to go incog-be-toe. Do you really think such drastic measures are needed? I would never suggest this if it were not absolutely necessary. Okay. If you say so. It's my professional and humble opinion Mrs. Honey Bee. This is how we get to the bottom of the mystery we've stumbled upon. As always Little Honey Bee I'll need your help and you'll need to shrink. As Melody Bee explains the help she needs she blows a cloud of transformation pollen through the window screen. Take a slow deep breath in through your nose feel your chest expand getting bigger and bigger then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth as you shrink smaller and smaller until you are the teeniest tiniest little bee. You buzz out of my office and down the stairs once again passing by Mr. Honey Bee who has actually fallen asleep this time. Melody Bee buzzes around the side of the house to meet you on the other side of the screen door that leads to the garage. There on either side of the screen you too realize you are now too small to easily open the door as quietly as you need to. Mr. Honey Bee shifts in his recliner and you buzz over there to make sure he's really asleep. Harold is curled up right by him and both are soundly sleeping. Using your new to you stinger you poke a little hole in the screen and make your way out into the garage with Melody Bee who is waiting with the next part of the plan. She leads you to the invisible cubby in the corner and together you once again listen for the voice she described. The slightest whistle entertains itself on the other side so softly that it seems to be in your ears only. Whatever or whoever Mr. Honey Bee is hiding is most certainly in there. Here, Help me open this cubby. Combining your microscopic strength you and Melody Bee use your little Honey Bee arms to pull yank and pound at the cubby door until it finally gives in to your pressures. You both buzz inside the cubby but it's so dark that you cannot see anything. It's much bigger than you expect though. You bump and buzz into the walls to get a sense of how big the space is. As a little Honey Bee it seems massive. Melody Bee can hardly see you so she whispers to your shadow as best she can. Do you see who could have been whistling little Honey Bee? I can't see anything. Melody Bee thinks you're right beside her but you're actually across the cubby from her. You keep bumping into something big and mechanical something that doesn't seem to move and looks to be a bright shade of blue with your ultraviolet Honey Bee eyes the mysterious blue is vivid and alluring. You buzz along its outline and see that it also has a single wheel that seems to be supporting it. You and Melody Bee are too small to drag whatever's in the cubby out and it's too dark to see once you're inside the secret cubby. Melody Bee finally finds you and leads you back out to Mr. Honey Bee's tool chest. This is where the last step in the plan waits. Harold's fave treat is in here. We save it for only the most special occasions and in order to do that we have to keep it hidden behind a lock and key in Mr. Honey Bee's tool chest. Cold hard steel is the only thing that could possibly keep Harold from this treat. You and Melody Bee pile a tantalizing amount of Harold's favorite treats in the cubby and leave the door to the cubby just the slightest bit ajar. The aroma will waft directly to his nose. All that's left to do is make the hole in the screen door that you wiggled through big enough so Harold can scratch his way through. You and Melody Bee use your stingers like buzz saws to poke enough holes in the screen door that it doesn't stand a chance against Harold's groping paws. He somehow gets even stronger when he's on the search for a treat. Once the plan has been put in place you two buzz back up to me inside at my writing desk. I have been waiting and wondering what Mr. Honey Bee could possibly be hiding. When I hear you two come back I am so relieved. Melody Bee transforms you back into a human now that your incognito mission is complete. How did it go? What did you see? The treats are in place. Now all we have to do is wake Harold up. Perfect. That should give us enough time in Mr. Honey Bee's garage to get whatever is hiding inside that dark hidden cubby out into the daylight. We walk down the stairs as loudly as we can trying to stir Harold awake. He is still snuggled up beside Mr. Honey Bee who is also still sound asleep. Our loud footsteps do nothing to wake either of them. We get all the way down stairs and each of us cough loudly. When that doesn't work I have no choice but to not so accidentally drop my heaviest cast iron skillet. Mr. Honey Bee and Harold bolt up from their afternoon nap and look to us in the kitchen to make sure everything is okay. Mrs. Honey Bee is everything okay? What was that? So sorry my dear. I suddenly had a craving for homemade pizza. When I grabbed this skillet it must have slipped. Oh good. I'm glad everyone is okay and it's always nice to wake up to homemade pizza. The house is about to smell delicious Harold. Much to Mr. Honey Bee's surprise Harold holds snout up sniffing the air as if it already smells delicious. We smile to ourselves knowing that our plan is working. The delicious tantalizing smell of not one but a pile of Harold's most favorite treats pulls him up from the recliner. Slowly at first but then with furious speed that comes from knowing you're this close to what you always want more of. Hypnotized Harold runs to the garage screen door which becomes an obstacle to overcome. He scratches and paws and whimpers at the door just like we thought he would. In the blink of an eye before Mr. Honey Bee can get there Harold rips through the screen and into the garage. We follow Harold out to the garage and while Mr. Honey Bee inspects the screen door we watch as Harold wedges his snout and front paws into the door of the cubby that's open just enough. When Mr. Honey Bee realizes that Harold is getting in it's too late. The powerful trance of Harold's favorite treats has opened the cubby door. With all three of us standing before the cubby and Harold fully inside the hidden compartment Mr. Honey Bee is not able to talk us back out to the garden. We look through the door to the pitch black compartment and watch as Harold licks his snout getting every last morsel of the pile he's scarped down. Harold trots out slowly and behind him someone else follows. A blue steel robot with a single wheel for feet big curious eyes and a yellow half sphere with an antenna on the top of his head rolls out. He stretches his arms big and wide as if he too just woke up from a nap. We are all stunned to see someone looking back at us that someone blinks a few times adjusts his antenna and rolls further out into the garage. Hi! I'm Roger Robot. Hi Roger Robot I'm Mrs. Honey Bee and that's Melody Bee and Harold. I'm sure you already know Mr. Honey Bee doesn't he my dear? Yes he does. And this is our little Honey Bee. Mr. Honey Bee you were keeping a whole entire new friend from us? Why? I wasn't keeping him from you all I just wanted him to be perfect before you met him. He is perfect he looks like the most perfect Roger Robot I've ever seen. You should have told us my dear. I know I don't know why I didn't. I get so caught up in making everything just right. What could possibly be made better about him? A new friend is always perfect as is. Hi again Roger Robot it's so nice to meet you officially. How are you? Hi I'm Roger Robot I I know Hi Roger Robot I'm Melody Bee how are you? Hi I'm Roger Robot Oh wait one second I need to adjust a couple things. Roger Robot did that help? Hi I'm Roger Robot Oh whoopsie daisy here you go buddy whew thank you for fixing my vocal settings Mr. Honey Bee I thought I was going to have to start blinking in Morse Code to communicate. You know Morse Code? You don't? No Roger we don't have intellichips like you do we just have brains. Oh wow can't you just do a software update on them? Ha ha ha no our hardware and software is much more fixed than yours. Ha ha it seems like we have a lot to talk about to get to know you don't we Roger? Roger that Mrs. Honey Bee do you want me to start at my first memory and list them in chronological order or in order of significance? Oh I meant wait Mr. Honey Bee do you have my memories? I can't find them oh and where are my ears? Oh yes yes here I forgot I took out your memory drive you needed more space in there to store all the memories you'll make and here are your ears. Mr. Honey Bee reaches into the cubby and pulls out the little yellow spheres we saw him toss in there before. Ah that's better now I have all my memories which combine to make up my personality. Where do you want me to start Mrs. Honey Bee? At the beginning please. So once upon a time about 15 minutes ago I was fully programmed. While I was powered down and charging in my cubby two very quiet bees came to visit. I couldn't say hi to them but it seemed like they wanted me to. About 8 minutes ago I rolled out of my cubby for the first time. About one minute ago I met a whole bunch of new friends with brains. That's it so far. Ha ha ha he's my newest prototype but he's still kind of new. Well it's wonderful to meet you Roger Robine. I'm sure your memories hard drive will be filled up in no time. We spend the rest of the afternoon getting to know Roger Robine. A new friend that Mr. Honey Bee built. It was a labor of love that he understandably wanted to keep secret until it was ready. Luckily with your help we got to the bottom of this mystery and even more lucky Mr. Honey Bee isn't a spy he he or at least I don't think he is. Always remember Mrs. Honey Bee believes in you. You are special and you are loved. I can't wait to see you again. Bedtime with Mrs. Honey Bee Today in the Honey Bee neighborhood we will see without using our eyes and learn how to change the world around us using only our minds. Are you going to give us magic powers? I suppose you can say that. I am saying that because I really feel like I should have more magical powers if I do say so myself. So what you're saying is that you already have magical powers Melody Bee? I am also saying that because I'm saying anything. I'm a talking bee with a hive full of transformation pollen in the garden just waiting for any opportunity to sparkle up the humdrum of daily buzzing about. Well if you put it that way I guess I have magical powers too kinda. It's my sense that I'm involved in your next sentence. Precisely. Roger Robot is my most evolved prototype to date and he is way more than the sum of his parts. That's kinda magical, Right? I take a hunk of metal Emphasis on hunk? A hunk of scrappy old metal parts I'll take scrappy and turn it into a living thinking communicating robot. A robot that I think may be developing a sort of synergistic AI artificial intelligence. There is nothing artificial about this intelligence Mr. Honey Bee. Of course you are the real deal. You know what I mean. You're learning more and more than I ever programmed you to learn. You're developing human-like senses. Oh, That's true. Roger Robot shed a single tear when we watched his favorite movie the one where the pets get lost and have to find their way home. It makes me tear up every time. Me too. I was testing my waterproofing people. Can't a robot test his waterproofing regularly? I gotta go. I'm defying physics in my cubby today. Very, Very busy. Roger's defying physics in a small cubby. Melody Bee's transforming things with pollen. And you, My dear, Are building machines that are capable of learning beyond their programming. We already contain so much magic, But we sometimes don't understand all the magic that's around us. I have a story that will show us just how magical we are. I'm excited to hear it, Mrs. Honey Bee. Me too, My dear. Is it written in that book you're holding? That book is soaked velvet covers. Here, Let me see. No, Not yet. This book is a lot to carry, But it's even more to carry around all these stories without a place big enough to put them. The story I'm thinking up will be big enough for every single story. How can a story be big? Do you mean long? No. I mean big. You'll see. What exactly are we going to see, Mrs. Honey Bee? All of us will. See the invisible and touch what cannot quite be grasped. There's so much to do. All you have to do is close your eyes, Get cozy, And listen to the sound of my voice. Mrs. Honey Bee will be your guide. Let's begin. You are here, Walking the last steps up to our brightly colored door. Before you can knock, You hear a curious ruckus coming from inside the house. Your pounding knocks, Trying to get our attention inside, Add to the chorus of unidentifiable sounds. You try shouting through the door, Asking if everything's okay in there, But there's no response. Until, Finally, Harold hears your frantic knocks, And alerts all of us inside. You let out a sigh of relief. Momentarily, Everything stops. My little Honey Bee, I need your help upstairs in my writing room. I was writing your story earlier, And there are all. . . Ugh. It's hard to explain. Come in. Come upstairs. Maybe you can help. You always do. Mr. Honey Bee is holding the door shut tight, But he can't hold on forever, At least not by himself. They've seemed to calm down a bit for now. They're up here, In my writing room. Harold, Shh. We need to be a bit quieter, Boy. We don't want to stir them up again. Oh, Goodness. It looks like they're already stirred up. Oh, Good. You're both here. Please help. I can't hold this door for much longer. I can't tell you what they're doing in there, But it somehow involves this door. Our little Honey Bee and I are here with four extra hands, My dear. Melody Bee, We need all hands on deck, Or a door. We need all hands. Buzz, Buzz, Buzz. I'm coming, I'm coming. I was in the garden trying to harvest more transformation pollen, But all I have is what's in my pouch. I thought that could help them settle a bit. Oh! Hi, Little Honey Bee. Welcome to our predicament. Melody Bee, Hands, Door. Oh, Yes. I got two hands and a rather commanding buzz. Door, My buzzin' eye, Command you. With all of our might, We push in a unified force against the door, But it continues to bulge from its hinges, Impacted by a powerful and ceaseless force on the other side. When your arms get tired, You turn your back against the door to push with your legs, And there, With your back to the door, You remind yourself that focus, Intention, And patience are your superpowers against anything, For anything at all. Pushing with all your might against the door, Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Strengthen your entire body until each and every one of your muscles are tightened. Feel your strength surge and your power take hold. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth, And let your entire body be soft against the door while your focus and intention take over for your muscles. You become an unstoppable force with a clear and focused vision. And then, The ruckus stops completely. There's nothing but silence as we catch our breath. Bit by bit, You relax even more until we each tentatively release our hold on the door. When all is quiet, Your mind trails back to what could be on the other side of the door. Stories? Is that what Melody B said? After several moments of uninterrupted silence, Mr. Honeybee insists on opening the door to make sure they've all gone back into their books. But who? Who can go back into books? Harold bravely stands as tall and formidable as he can, Waiting for Mr. Honeybee to open the door. Melody B covers her eyes, Peeking out between two of her fingers. You don't know what to make of any of this, But are filled with more wonder than ever. Mr. Honeybee slowly opens the door. As far as you can see, There's not much to see. Besides bookshelves lining the walls from floor to ceiling, There's only a sliding library ladder attached to them, And many, Many, Many books stuffed every which way within them. All of us peek one eye and then the other past the threshold, Waiting for whatever made that sound to strike again. All we hear are our own thoughts before Harold charges in, Fearlessly leading the way. Arm in arm, We walk into the sunshine-filled writing room and step directly into a sunbeam that shines on the wood floor where Harold decides he's done enough investigation for now. Unconcerned with the mysterious sound that he's long forgotten, He drags his puffy bed into the sunbeam and curls up for a snooze. Mr. Honeybee checks every corner of the room, Under my writing desk and beneath the cushions of my reading chair. Each of us scours the room from floor to ceiling, Searching for. . . You're not sure what, But something. You're searching for something, Anything, That could make such a ruckus. Something that should go back into a book. You're looking for something that has escaped a book. Mr. Honeybee even pulls the string to my reading lamp to make sure nothing's hiding in the light bulb. . . Again. The ninjas are very stealthy. It's their training, I guess. If they got out, They're long gone. But if they're not, They'll be somewhere we least expect them. Is it safe to uncover my eyes? It's hard to look for them with my eyes covered. I think the coast is clear, Melody Bee. You can uncover your eyes. Check anywhere you think they might have gone. The more unexpected, The better. Melody Bee, You're typing. I know, Right? No one can hide under these buttons if I pounce on each one. No, I mean, You're continuing the story I was writing. Typing on the page. That's how they got out. That's the page they came out of? Yes, That page right there. I was writing a story about an alien, And I just got to the part where the spaceship crash-landed and all the aliens walked out dizzy and confused because they don't know what gravity is. And since gravity is invisible, It's hard to explain so they can't even ask the right questions. But get this, The aliens are also invisible. Uh-oh. You don't like it? No, It's not that. I love that story. It's just. . . What, Mr. Honey Bee? What? If the aliens are invisible in the story, How can we see them to make sure they didn't escape? They could be in here surrounding us, For all we know. I continue. . . That one. Did I just write gibberish? Hopefully that doesn't make sense to the invisible aliens and it wouldn't push the plot along. I wasn't purposely pouncing on the keys. I promise. Let's see here. Mr. Honey Bee holds up the page so we can all read it. All at once, We gasp. Without meaning to, Something took over the direction of her pounces and Melody Bee wrote the following words while searching for escaped ninjas under my typewriter buttons. Help. Crash landed. Dinosaur stomped ship. Ninja took princess. Borrowed a unicorn. Be back soon. P. S. Ouch. The sun is harsh on your planet. I wrote all that? Is that from the aliens in the story? How did they write with my feet? That's what happens when you write stories. Things that you aren't fully aware of just run away with your hands and before you know it, The story is done. But even though a story may be finished, That's not the end of the story. Not at all. What happens next? Actually, Wait. Do I really want to know that? Some things are better left as a mystery. Yes, We want to know. Me and all of the invisible aliens that might be in this room right now want to know very badly. Okay, I'll bite. What happens after the story's been written? Mr. Honey Bee, It's not nice to bite. It's a figure of speech. I'm not going to bite anyone, Melody Bee. Watch out. An invisible alien antenna could be floating by your mouth right now in the bite zone. I'll talk like this, Okay? Okay. That's the safest bet. Oh, So you're a gambler now. Making bets? It's just something you say. Oh, I get it. Figures of speech. Mrs. Honey Bee, How do you turn a plain old piece of paper like this into an invisible alien invasion? And how do all of these figures get in our speech? How do you go about answering such a question? While I ponder, You all sit on the edge of your proverbial seats. Not wanting to sit idly by, You check in between the many books stacked every which way on the shelves to look for whatever has escaped. Ninjas? Aliens? Maybe a unicorn is hiding between all of these books. Some of them haven't been moved in a long while. A thin layer of dust covers the tops while you brush your fingertips along the spines of the books. I come to the conclusion that I cannot possibly explain what exactly happens when you write a story. I must show you so you know with your experience, Too. In order to show you what happens when you write a story, I must first tell you a story. You turn back from the bookshelf to smile your glorious smile at me as I read from the page that Mr. Honeybee removed from the typewriter. Your attention fades in and out as different books catch your eye on the bookshelf. The invisible alien story goes like this. You don't hear the beginning because you are focused on the soft, Leathery feel of the books. The middle of the story gets your attention, Though. The alien's UFO crash lands. Their advanced physics and mathematics do not understand such a thing as gravity, Which we knew intuitively on this planet long before we had a name for it. When the UFO crash lands, The aliens aboard the ship cannot communicate with their home planet because their signals are weak in our atmosphere. They don't understand what the sun is, Nor the invisible UV rays projecting from it. They are anything but invisible to them. When the aliens crashed, They assumed that they were under attack from a much advanced civilization that was aiming billions of lasers at them from every which way. But it was only the sun and the brilliance we understand sunshine to be from our earthly perspective. It's at this point that story peaks Mr. Honeybee's interest. Recently, He's been speculating about just such aliens, The invisible type, Who were formed by an entirely different calculus and who assume a completely different physics of being. Mr. Honeybee gets antsy to hear the rest of the story and instead asks to read it himself. I hand him the page to read aloud as you continue to peruse the bookshelves that seem to go on forever, Still looking for something, Anything out of the ordinary. There are all sorts of books with all sorts of titles. Their colors are mesmerizing and you wonder what it would be like to have all the information in these books inside your mind at once. What a wealth of imagination and amazement lies waiting within these books. Just as you think that, Mr. Honeybee gets to the part of the alien invasion story when the aliens finally get out of the ship. They just so happened to have crash-landed at a laundromat, One that Harold loves to go to. Harold sits in front of the washing machine door just as mesmerized by the swirling bubbles of the laundry as you are by the books at your fingertips. Harold's mind cannot conceive of such an activity as doing laundry. To him, The washing machine looks like it's playing a game of fetch with itself. What a concept. Harold is just as dizzyingly delighted watching the washing machine as he is when you run around and around in circles playing fetch. But the aliens knew nothing of this laundromat or fetch. What they figured out, Though, Is that those wavy things we call sheets can be used as a powerful sunscreen. One of the littlest aliens who figured this out first dodged all of the sun's laser beams when the sun ducked behind a cloud and took cover in a laundry basket underneath a pile of freshly dried sheets. Melody Bee was overcome with how adorable little aliens wrapped in fresh linens would be, So she grabbed the page from Mr. Honey Bee and continued reading the story, Marveling at how the littlest alien bravely led those aboard the crashed ship to safety wrapped in sheets. But neighbors of ours, The ones at the laundromat, Knew nothing of Harold's excitement or of an invisible alien UFO crash landing. All they knew was that ghosts travel in sheets, So when they saw the invisible aliens draped in sheets and ducking for cover from the UV laser rays of the sun, The neighbors ran away screaming from all the floating sheets that looked like ghosts. The shrieks and screams from the neighbors frightened the invisible alien draped in sheets even more. The littlest alien led them all to the closest, Quietest place they could find. At the bookshelf, Your fingertips stumble upon a small crevice between two antique books. The only open space on the bookshelf that you've found thus far. You tilt the book from one side to the other, And standing there between the books is what you can only call an invisible alien. It's tiny, And you can't see much of it except that its outline shimmers in the sunlight. Recognizing the love you bring to every encounter, The shimmering alien hops up onto your hand. You turn around in amazement to show us, Just as Melody B finishes reading his story. Then the little alien happens upon a place that is safe, A place that welcomes such an alien creature as him. Oh my goodness, Little honeybee, Are you whole right now? My dear, Your writing room must be the safe, Quiet place the alien found. Well, It was quiet, But it seems that some of the other stories got out when the aliens got in. From what I can tell, The aliens didn't know what to do, So they started opening up all the books on the shelves and telling their stories. So, By this, They come to life? That's how it goes, Just as simple as it is complex. Then, Like, Now that the alien is safe and happy in Mrs. Honeybee's writing room, He reads every story in the entire library, And now knows everything there is to know about Earth and its Earthlings. Then, That little alien gathers his entire alien army out of their hiding spots and uses all his Earthly knowledge to. . . Happy to see all of its friends once again? The littlest alien in your hand encourages Melody Bee to continue telling his story. There's so much that this little alien wants to do and so much to see. He hops up and down in your hand, Climbs up your arm, Hides behind your ear, Leaps up to your head, And hops in quick succession from your head to each of ours, Including Harold's, Who sleeps right through it. If this little invisible alien had his way, He'd bounce off the walls and do anything and everything under the sun. But, Just like we can't always do what we want when we want to, And for good reason, We need to make some agreements with this alien invasion story. If we're able to bring this little alien to life by telling his story, We need to develop invisible alien parameters that contain his alien excitement, That channel his vital life force into something good and enriching. It's precisely when our stories get away from us, Get out beyond their story parameters that they can take on different lives, Ones that we cannot recognize and thus cannot appreciate as just stories. Fears are like that, And so are worries. Sometimes when our stories get away from us, Especially the ones that become worries and then fears, We think they're certainties. But stories are not certainties, They're possibilities. It's only through some control that we experience what it means to be unlimited, Which is to say, Have possibility. This little alien has learned that Earth and its Earthlings are chock full of paradoxes. Possibility, Even when paradoxical, Is so much more fun. The only way to put tangible parameters on invisible things is with something that's equally tangible yet invisible, Our breath. Breath is a powerful remote control for our imagination. You cannot see it, But you can feel its presence as well as its absence. That's why we say shocking things take our breath away. Your breath is already connected with your imagination. We just need reminders of that relationship sometimes. Maybe that's why this little invisible alien came to Earth and came to us to remind us of how big our imaginations are and how powerful our breath is. The bigger the breath we take, The wider we can set the parameters for this little alien to live out his wondrous story. Careful control of our powerful imaginations allow the stories within to come even more into our reality of daily life. Take your slowest, Biggest breath in through your nose. Send your breath all the way down into the bottom of your belly and fill it up as if it was a balloon. Hold it in for a moment. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and watch as the boppity little alien bouncing around my writing room slows down, Calmed by your breath. He hops back onto the page from the typewriter where the next part of the invisible alien story continues on as if it were a movie in a theater. Since you see this theater in your imagination, It's even brighter and more dazzling than anything you can see with your eyes. The theater in your mind is infinite. Your imagination is the end as well as the means to the end of each and every story. It's not enough for a story to be written. Stories demand to be told, Heard, Seen, And experienced. That's how they come to life, Through you, My little honey bee. They wouldn't be stories without you. They'd be inert words on a page, Closed up in dusty books on the shelf. But because of you and your power, All these stories come to life. Stories that demanded to be told the loudest are the ones that fill the books that fill the bookshelves of my writing room. The books you found this little invisible alien wedged between led your imagination run wild thinking about all the many stories contained within the walls of this library and all the possibilities even within the confines of a single story. All the places, Characters, Plot twists, Turns, And mysteries, And all of the fun. As your imagination starts to wonder, More aware of your own power than ever before, Characters of all sorts start to wander out of their bindings. Stories of all sorts break free of their pages and fill the once empty, Silent room with ruckus. The same ruckus you heard when you arrived. A bulging ruckus made by princesses, Superheroes, Adventurers, Astronauts, Unicorns, Animals of all sorts, And even one mad scientist. The ruckus wakes Harold from his snooze and he wakes up to think he's still dreaming. The littlest alien, As well as his alien army, Pounce back out of the page and run along the floor in confused circles. Harold doesn't know who to chase first or how he got so lucky as to have so many playmates. They all spring forth in a flurry from the bookshelves and ride the waves of your breath. Your inspiration. Your imagination. Now that you know how to both command and contain your infinity with your breath, You have even more power to create these stories with me, My little honey bee. My dear, Look at all these stories. You wrote all of these? Our little honey bee is bringing all of these to life? Some of them look familiar, But not all of them. What's that over there? It looks like a squishy blob. Oh, That's a jello monster. I accidentally broke a few of my jello molds. Well, Harold broke them, But he didn't mean to. Harold, You made it! He helps me write a lot of my stories, Don't you, Boy? He wanted to make one big jello shape by combining all the molds together. We even used different colors of jello. When it cooled and it all gelled together, I thought to myself that it kind of looks like a jello monster. That's what gave me the idea. What if there was a monster that no one knew was a monster, So they weren't afraid of it? The jello monster was on a journey to be spooky. To finally be the scary monster he felt like he was. I put the jello monster next to the Halloween stories so he could get some ideas. Maybe one of your other stories could help us get these stories back in their books. From the sounds of what the invisible aliens wrote through Melody B's feet, There's been a unicorn heist, A dinosaur wrecked the UFO, And the ninjas are holding the princesses captive. Little Honey B, Help us search for a detective character, Quick! We gotta get to the end of. . . While we look around the writing room, Parsing through hordes of stories that have burst from their books, Your imagination wanders and cycles through possible endings to this invisible alien story. That's when you think of an ingenious way to meet the ninjas and the aliens at the end of their story by simply reading the end of the story off the page. Surely when the little alien returned the page, Even briefly, He jotted down a bit more of his story. You frantically trace the lines of the page with your finger, Looking for the end of the story. And that's when you realize that the end of this story has yet to be written. How can it possibly be told if it's not even written? After the invisible aliens demanded their plea be told through Melody B's unknowing, Pouncing feet on the typewriter, The story simply stopped there, Brashly incomplete. Bright white paper stares blankly back without so much as a keystroke's clue of what sort of ending this story could be leading to. You show the empty paper to Mr. Honey Bee. My dear, What happened when you were writing this story? It seems you stopped in the middle. It's not finished. Maybe whatever happened in the middle of this story can help us understand how all of these stories got out in the first place. I was writing at my desk. Then, Oh, That's right, A little bluebird landed on my windowsill. She kept flying away, But came back several times, Bringing back grass and twigs. The bluebird was making a nest right before my very eyes. I thought that would be a wonderful story, Too. I kept trying to write the alien story, But every time she came back with more sticks, I would think about how this little bluebird's day is going. And then I got to thinking about what an alien bird would look like if I combined the two stories. Combined them? Oh, Interesting. It certainly is. Would an alien bird look kind of like a dinosaur bird? Well, Technically, Birds are dinosaurs. What? So dinosaur came to your windowsill? Maybe that's why the dinosaur came into the alien story and stomped their UFO when it crashed. Because you were thinking about dinosaurs while writing the invisible alien story, It literally crashed their UFO into a dinosaur. That must be it. That must be what's causing all this story chaos. The invisible alien story is itching to be told in full. It's hanging in the balance, Unfinished. It's only half done because I kept thinking up more and more fun stories. Oh, I get it now. While this alien invasion story waits to be written, The aliens must be peeking into other stories to get ideas, Trying to figure out how their story will end. Just like the jello monster, The unwritten story must be letting all the other ones out. We need to tell this invisible alien story, And quick. But how? There are so many stories out and about. Are all of these part of the invisible alien story now? Are we part of the invisible alien story now? When you look around the room at the stampede of stories taking up every inch of space, You rush to the door to block their potential exit. If you could at least contain them all in one place, You can decide what to include in the alien story and what not to include. That's a crucial part of writing any story. With your arms extended out as far to either side as you can, Taking up the entire width of the closed door, You realize that the escaped stories aren't trying to get out like the ruckus you heard earlier would suggest. When you came up the stairs earlier, The door was bulging from its hinges as if whatever was inside was trying to get outside. These stories are certainly trying to get somewhere, Though. If not out through the door, Was it somewhere near the door? Too many questions and stories swirl around each other at once. But luckily, You know exactly what to do when the stories get the best of you. Take another slow, Deep breath in through your nose to quiet the ruckus. Feel your chest and your spirits lift to the heights of your imagination as the cool, Fresh air brings your focus to sturdy story parameters. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth. With your calming breath, The frenzy in the air has settled down. The characters arrange themselves in a tidy line, Rushing like a patient river from the bookshelves, Along the floor, Across the writing room, And up the wall just beside the door, Following the marching line of the stories up the wall until you're looking all the way up to the high ceilings overhead, Until you can feel a slight stretch in the front of your neck. It seems like all of these stories are now unavoidably part of the invisible alien story, Whether they like it or not. They're all marching up the wall together like ants, Unified and carrying much more than their body weight should allow. All these stories carry along their part in the unwritten, Invisible alien story until it can finally be told in full. Bring your head back to a comfortable center and take a couple steps back to see that there's a shelf hanging just above the door with a single book propped open on a bookstand, As if it's being presented. A couple of the circus acrobat characters are the first to succeed in climbing over the other bigger characters, Marching up the wall. They flip themselves all the way up to the shelf just above the door before disappearing. As the characters continue to march, You see that the characters aren't trying to get out of the room. They're trying to get up the wall. Try as they may, They are getting up the wall. All the way to that shelf just below the ceiling where they disappear from view. Mr. Honeybee grabs my sliding book ladder from the bookshelf on the other side of the room and leans it against the door for you to climb up. We hold it steady while you ascend, Step by step. Left foot, Right foot, Left foot, Right foot, All the way up the ladder. The stories march single file alongside. When you get to the top of the ladder, On your tippy toes, You come face to face with an open book that doesn't have a speck of dust to speak of, Unlike all the others on the shelves. This one has its own shelf. Up here on the ladder, A sudden silence washes over you. All of the characters have disappeared in this direction, As if into this very book. The type that fills the pages is so small that it's difficult to read without a magnifying glass. The pages flip on their own, But show no other sign of movement or presence, And there doesn't seem to be an end to the pages when they flip. Yet you can plainly see the front and back velvety covers laying open on the stand. Emptied of all the escaped stories and their ruckus, We look around the room, Mystified, Until the pages of the book up on the shelf stop flipping, Yet lay open still in the middle. Every single one of the stories has managed to disappear, All except for the littlest invisible alien whom you feel but do not see get a running start from the ground and climb you as if you're a mountain. The littlest alien springs up onto your shoulder and leaps into the open book, Where it dives deep into the pages. Page after page of the book flips on its own once again, As the alien burrows deeper and deeper into the book's pages until it finally stops for good. My little honeybee, Did the alien jump into that book? What book is that? Look, It's called The Honeybee Neighborhood. Hey, That's where we live. That's right, Melody Bee. But my dear, I think our little honeybee will need a little help lifting it. Really? It doesn't look that heavy. It's just one book. Well, Maybe you should give it a try then. It's a book. Now that I think about it, I remember seeing you hold this very book just after we moved in. Wow, That was a long time ago. If you can pick up this book, I can pick up this book. No problemo. You exchange places with Mr. Honeybee as he walks confidently up each rung of the ladder until he gets to the book laying open and unmoved on its stand. He looks down to us and winks before he turns back around to pick it up with ease. Or so he thinks. With both hands under the velvet covers and both his knees braced, He attempts to pick up the book. But it doesn't budge. He can't even lift a single page to flip. The book on the shelf doesn't move even slightly. We all climb up the ladder after Mr. Honeybee, And it takes all of our considerable effort to lift this book up off its stand. We use its own gravity and momentum to carry it back down the ladder, Running a race against our combined strength until we finally heave it up onto my desk. When it drops, The desk and the floor beneath our feet rumble from its heft. The wall shake around us and loosens the door from its hinges. The door to my writing room falls open with a powerful thud that rattles us again. It seems as if time stops at that moment. All the silence that surrounds us resounds like a secret that we all come to know at once. Then. . . All the many, Many, Many characters from every story I've ever written, Which escape to this one heavy book, Are instantaneously dislodged. We frantically try to scoop them up, But are unable to command the onslaught back into their place in the pages. Ousted from this strangely heavy book, All the confused characters dart off through the open door into magnanimous lives of their own making. They escape out the doors of my writing room and into the outside world. Melody B holds on to the toe of a single baby dragon, Trying with a last-ditch effort to keep the story contained. But despite all of her might, The dragon flew in such tight circles that Melody B's wings and limbs tangled into a knot. The littlest dragon escaped her grasp and took with it a little pouch of transformation pollen. You try your best to shut the book, Hoping to shut in any sleuth-moving stragglers, But even with both hands, You can't. The book stays open, Allowing two ninjas to leap in backward circles off the page and out of the room without needing to conceal themselves. A single wild unicorn gallops after them. Wh-wh-what just happened? D-did they all get out? It seems all the stories escaped their own books to take refuge in this big heavy one. But then when we dropped it, We jumbled them up somehow. What is this book, Mrs. Honeybee? This book? This book is. . . Not really a book at all. It just looks like a book. This is my heart. Your heart? How can that be? How can it not be? Just like how I make things with love as the special ingredient, That, On the desk, Is my whole heart. That means that your heart is heavy, Mrs. Honeybee. Why is your heart so heavy? It's full of stories, And not all stories are light. Some are heavy. Some of the most important ones are incredibly heavy. But they're all important, No matter the weight. So the characters left their stories, The ones in the book, To get to you? Yes, I think so, And to get to each other, But also beyond each other and me. Like I said earlier, Stories demand to be told. All these stories want me to tell them, To make them known. That's what my heart always wants to do, To tell stories. All kinds of stories. Not just stories about unicorns or stories about superheroes, But stories about superheroes that are also skilled unicorn riders. Not just stories about princesses, But stories about princesses that are also deep-sea divers with underwater kingdoms. I love all stories and am eternally frustrated that all stories can't exist together in one big story. That's why this book is my heart in book form. The Honey Bee Neighborhood, Right here, Is the one place where I can tell all kinds of stories without having to pick just one. It's a place where we can feel unlimited. Even the stories themselves feel unlimited. That's probably why they all wanted out of their separate books. So that would mean the Honey Bee Neighborhood doesn't have limits, But I can see the beginning of this book right here, And the end is right there. I should be able to lift this thing. It's simple, Really, But we make it complicated trying to understand it, And that's okay, Too. For as long as I can remember, Certainly for as long as we've lived here in the Honey Bee Neighborhood, My dear, I have written my stories out, Climbed up that same ladder, And placed the pages in the book. Really? I guess I've never noticed it before. We don't notice a lot of the magic that goes on around us. No matter how many pages I place inside the binding of that book, There's always more room, Which is good, Because there are always more stories. The beginning and the end of one story are the middles of a thousand other stories. Where you divide it up is arbitrary at best. If you go searching for the beginning, You'll never find it, And you'll have just as much luck with the end. It makes no sense, Yet that's how we each live our lives. I don't remember my beginning as a baby. Does anyone? And searching for the end is like missing the whole entire rainbow, Just because you're busying yourself looking for the pot of gold at the end. I've actually tried that. The rainbow kept following me as I tried to follow it. Then I started to wonder, Oh my goodness, Has this rainbow been following me the whole time but just hides when I don't see it? It was bananas. It was little prisms of light reflection. No, It was bananas. The rainbow tricked me. It wasn't the rainbow. It was your mind that played a little trick on you. My mind? Rude. I think I understand, My dear. It's about perspective. That's why you couldn't find the end of the rainbow, Melody B. It's not a place to find as much as an experience from your singular perspective. And that's why one story's beginning could be the end of another story and vice versa. It's all connected. But our minds kind of chop up the whole pie into smaller slices. Exactly, My dear. That's the little trick our minds play on us. And it just seems like everything is separated and that what we see is all there is. Stories help us remember the simple fact that everything and everyone is connected. Because there's so much more to know than ever meets the eye. It's crucial to tell stories as well as listen to them. All these invisible aliens want is their story to be told. But little did we know just how big one invisible alien's story could be. Their story includes all of those other stories now. And all of us. And you too, Harold. So, Let me understand this. I am connected to everything, Little old me? That's right, Melody B. If I flutter my wing right now, It can move the wind in such a way that will cause just the precise breeze that will inspire a poet to write a beautiful poem? Yes, That would be a positive instance. But there's more nuance. Because everything is connected, We need helpful parameters to contain things at certain times. Not forever or in all ways, But at certain times. To protect ourselves and others, We need to bring all the stories back. Give them their proper place. How in the world can we do that? If we can't even hardly lift this book? It won't budge, Mrs. Honeybee. We have to use our minds to understand things we cannot quite grasp with our hands. Our imagine. Using your powerful imagination to focus on the book laying open on my writing desk, Notice everything there is to notice about a book that contains all stories in one place. The smooth texture of the covers. The golden sunshine brightening the now storyless pages. The delightful aroma an old book has from being cherished for so many years. Notice how still the book is. Find that same stillness within you. Once you find it, We can deepen our awareness of ourselves even further. And attune our minds to things we may typically take for granted. Like the back of your tongue, For instance. It likely lays in such a position that allows you to breathe mindlessly through your nose. Bring your awareness to the back of your tongue and move it closer to the back of your throat. Feel the airway up to your nose shrink and hear the different sounds your breath can make from this simple change. If the airway is shrunken really small, You'll snore a bit. But if it's open just enough, Your own breath can sound like the ocean. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose and make an ocean sound as you do. As your belly expands, Imagine your imagination expanding big enough to contain every possible thing in its own cubby. In its proper place in the expanding, Infinite space that exists within you. Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth. The once still heavy pages of the book on the desk begin to blow open by the featherweight touch of your ocean breath. With conscious thought, You take the book gently into your hands and carry it without effort. You are now aware of the special magic that you contain. The eternal part of you that understands infinity because you're holding it in your hands. Harold is the most excited because he knows by the determined look on your face that you are uniquely capable of rescuing the escaped stories from a world of confusion and putting them back into their place in the infinity. Always remember, Mrs. Honeybee believes in you. You are special and you are loved. I can't wait to see you again. Bedtime with Mrs. Honeybee Today in the Honeybee neighborhood, We will continue our adventure that we started in part one. The adventure that will show us how to see without using our eyes and change the world around us using only our minds. We're well on our way to discover the magical powers that we already have. If you haven't listened to part one of Honeybee neighborhood episode two, You could listen to the first part of this story. Well, First, If you click there. But you can also stay right where you are and resume this adventure with us, My little honeybee. All you have to do is close your eyes, Get cozy and listen to the sound of my voice. Mrs. Honeybee will be your guide. Let's begin. Harold bolts out of the writing room and down the stairs. But you aren't so fast because something has caught your eye back on the bookshelf. Just then and not before, You notice that the two books you found the littlest alley in between were both about ninjas. You note it with your notice before Harold's excitement diverts your attention. We don't hesitate to follow his lead, Taking your note with us. His nose must be on to something. Melody Bee quickly figures it out. What is it, Melody Bee? That dragon must have taken my satchel of transformation pollen. How? I didn't feel the satchel lift off my shoulder. That must have been the ninja. I told you they were stealthy. What would the ninjas want with transformation pollen? What couldn't a ninja want, No less get with it? It's the gateway to everything. But you know what? I don't suspect this was the doing of a ninja. I bet this was the work of an invisible alien. The transformation pollen could give them more control over whether they're visible or invisible. It could probably lessen how harsh the sun is on their iridescence. There is definitely a connection between the aliens and the ninjas. And that becomes even more evident with the books the alien was found in between. Knowing that the aliens and ninjas may be working in cahoots, Melody Bee rushes out to her garden where the transformation pollen is harvested. If the invisible aliens really did read all the stories in the library with their super speed intelligence, Then they must know that too. The scene in the garden is a picturesque sight for wondrous eyes. In addition to the lush greenery of Melody Bee's extensive garden, Full of fruits, Veggies and blossoming flowers, There's also a herd of unicorns. We know it's a herd because every single shade of every single color of the rainbow is represented, Except for the bright pink one. That must have been the unicorn the alien borrowed. Melody Bee rushes over to the unicorns, Who are not bothered in the least. They are munching on blackberries and picking out the juiciest ones by their sweet scent. As we walk by, Searching for any kind of clue that can lead us to where the alien borrowed the unicorn to, You graze the silky mane of the colorful unicorns, Gravitating to your favorite color. She glitters in the bright sunshine, And you stop for a moment to take your surroundings in with each sense. The warmth of the sun on your skin, The scent of the sweet berries, The sound of birdsong, The vibrant colors of the garden dotted with unicorns, And the unicorn even point you toward the juiciest berry for you to savor its tartness. Here in the garden, Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel your chest and your spirits lift as you send your breath down into your belly. Hold it there for a moment, Making enough space for it. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth, And let your body feel heavy, Fully supported on all sides and in all ways. Melody B buzzes around and around their upright ears, Dusting off a thin layer of what only she can tell is most certainly transformation pollen. The unicorns love my pollen because it can turn anything rainbow-colored with just a wink. And I mean anything, Even Roger Robot. But shh, Don't bring it up. He's still kinda sensitive about it. Sensitive about being so bright even my electronic eyes couldn't handle the glare? Robots were not meant to be rainbows. Robots, Rainbows, Robots, Rainbows, Robots, Rainbows, Separate for a reason. I was shining so brightly I couldn't get any work done. That's right. We had to repaint you back to blue. You couldn't even change your color like usual because it was so saturated. Blue is the proper color for a robot. It's a great base cover for aeronautical travel. I cannot span the universe, No less the multiverse in Technicolor. Though it could be helpful for black holes, Which is a problem. Hmm. Actually, That's a good point. Unicorns, Rainbow me please. Roger Robot rolls circles around the unicorns trying to get their attention so he can be transformed into Technicolor. The bright blue unicorn shares an azure affinity with Roger Robot and rears up on his hind legs, Giving him a proper dusting of transformation pollen. Roger can change his color, Shape, Size, And function, But he cannot get as magnificent of a light specimen as is provided naturally by the unicorn. His rainbow appearance doesn't set in all at once. It fades in, So he has a chance to get his sunglasses for whatever he's doing in his little cubby in the garage. The unicorns are momentarily upset by someone or something snuffling through the garden. We hear its gargantuan steps before we see it. A Triceratops dinosaur comes lumbering through the row of tomatoes, Whipping its gargantuan head through entire bushels, Swallowing them all in one gulp. This sends Melody B into a tizzy, Which none of us understand. Melody B explains that dinosaurs are likely allergic to tomatoes because it was the very meteorite that crashed into the Jurassic world that gave tomatoes their red color. She rushes over to the dinosaur, Unafraid of its size, And snaps her fingers busily about its horns, Trying to distract it. The unicorns don't quite know what to make of the dinosaur, But they're not content to stick around and find out anything else about them. Their instincts kick in, And they kick up their front legs. As we continue wandering through the garden, Avoiding the dinosaurs' steps and in search of a satchel or any kind, Or a clue as to where the pink unicorn went, The unicorn heard Whinnies and follows along. Eventually, Persuaded by several near-misses from the dinosaur foot, The unicorns nuzzle us up onto their fuzzy saddle for a unicorn ride. We gallop faster and faster, Clearing the danger zone around the dino, And as we do, You notice the slightest tinge of rainbow shimmer upon your skin. You're rainbow-colored, Too, Now. The unicorns anticipate each twist and turn as if they know what we're looking for. They take us to a far corner of the garden, Where you see a glass building shimmer in the sunshine. The unicorns stop abruptly and resume lazily grazing the tall green grass while we follow a dirt footpath up to the door. They must want us to go inside. Melody B. Flutters ahead worried. This greenhouse is where she keeps her extra-special and extra-sensitive flowers, Even carnivorous ones, Which are not as menacing as they sound. She treats them more like little snapping pups, But they don't know anyone besides her. Melody B. Tests the limits of her unknown command over the dinosaur by enticing it to return to the pages so we can go to the dinosaur vet. When Mr. Honeybee regretfully informs her that there likely weren't any dino vets in Jurassic times, She parks the dinosaur outside the greenhouse and listens to its chest. It's coughing and wheezing, Two sure signs of an allergic reaction, But the heart is strong. She commands the dinosaur to sit and stay, Just like you would a pup, And to our amazement, The dino responds accordingly. We follow Melody B. Inside the glass door and encounter yet another sight to be seen. Against the back wall, Stacked from floor to ceiling on glass shelves, Droves of Venus flytraps have snapped their neon green spiky jaws around just as many stories. She panics. As the primary gardener responsible for the care of all her blossoms, Melody B. Knows more than anyone that these carnivorous plants can only fully clasp their spikes closed once. When they do, They need to munch on something that will give them enough energy to snap again. Currently, The Venus flytraps are closing in on the many stories that came to explore this whimsical place. Melody B. Leads the charge to single-handedly open the jaws of each carnivorous blossom without worry of being bitten. The Venus flytraps close in slow motion up until the very last clamp, And then it's for keeps. But, Like pups who know their companion's hand, These blossoms know Melody B. And are giddy every time they see her. You swear you can even sense their leaves wagging like tails when she hops inside their closing jaws. They're not flies. These are stories. How can you not tell the difference between a fairy from a fairy tale and a fly? Or look at this. You're about to munch on a gnome. That won't taste good at all. We find all sorts of stories that have sought out the garden for the adventure contained within its bountiful bounds. Melody B. Rescues all the characters that are otherwise at home in a place like this. The fairies, Goblins, And princesses from mythical stories are all spared from the jaws of the Venus flytraps and corralled into the greenhouse rows. She even finds a dragon, The little one she almost caught from escaping my writing room. And in those paws, Almost as tightly clenched as the traps of the coniferous blossoms, Melody B. Finally gets her hands back on her satchel. Though the purse has been retrieved, The whole season's harvest of pollen isn't inside. With her bumbling sense of precise weights down beyond human discernment, She is resolute that the alien has absconded with a magical power that should be handled with only the utmost care. And something else is missing too. A single bioluminescent bloom, Which, Like a nightlight, Creates its own light in the dark of the nighttime. What are the aliens and the ninjas planning to do with transformation pollen and a bioluminescent flower? Melody B. Gives us each a little bit of the remaining pollen to sprinkle on the ground. She thinks it might illuminate the subtle sparkle of the unicorn tracks that aren't so easily perceptible. And sure enough, It does. Looking out the glass walls of the greenhouse that's not at all green, The transformation pollen has seeped deep into the earth to light up the shimmer of the bright pink unicorn tracks that lead into the forest behind our house. Before we go, You think it would be a wise decision to corral all the stories we found in the greenhouse back into their pages, The ones in the book that you're still holding in your hands. Though we couldn't carry it with our combined strength, Your powerful imagination allows you to hold it between your two hands. You hold it out proudly and attempt to command the stories back in. A few of the multitude that are tightly huddled around the rows of hothouse cucumber vines that trail from floor to ceiling motion to fall in line, To heed your call and return to their pages. But most of them do not. And then, All of them decide in unison that they will stay in the garden. There's so much to explore. We beg and plead and try to reason with them to change their minds, Holding open the empty, Storyless pages between the covers. They remain unsweet. We all look at each other in confusion. And while we do, The stories blend back in with the whimsical garden atmosphere to the point where we cannot really even see them anymore. Now that they know to avoid the living fly traps, They each find new adventures to take their stories in exciting new directions, Ones they never thought possible. Our unicorns outside rear up, Impatient with our indecision. As long as the escape stories agree to stay within their helpful parameters, We agree to let them stay. It's at that very moment that the book in your hands floats above them, Levitating in midair for just a quick second before you catch it again and hold it in with a hug. When you let your hands go once more, Once again, The book hovers in place. The unicorns are eager to have their herd complete once again. There's no time to figure out why that once heavy book can all of a sudden float as if it's weightless. We return to our rainbow colored unicorns and take to the skies overlooking the forest. Melody B summons the coughing itching dinosaur to follow behind us, Convinced that it's having an allergic reaction. She doesn't know when or how, But she's sure that we'll find someone along the way who can help this escaped dino story. From what we can tell, The unicorn tracks seem to lead us to where we will likely find many of the escaped princess stories. On the other side of the honeybee neighborhood in the kingdom of Ronzio. To all the neighbors down on the ground, We must look like a flock of birds flying in formation. Those same neighbors must think there is an earthquake afoot, Though, Because the wheezing dinosaur is following us on the ground. Wheezing as it quickens its pace to keep up with the flock of unicorns above. Instead of a V-shape like migrating geese, Unicorns fly exclusively in a curved rainbow shape toward their destination. All of our unicorns curve forward, Flying us over a seemingly endless wilderness of forest below. Their wings are so big that they gather clouds in around them like a warm front weather system. But this one brings gusts of glittering winds and clouds that sparkle. The dense forest below becomes more sparse with little outposts dotting the landscape. The people of the Ronzio kingdom are going about their day as if it's like any other. From way up here, You can see someone hanging out their laundry to dry in the fresh air. Up here on the fuzzy saddle of your favorite color unicorn, Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the cool air coming in through your nose and filling up your lungs with newness, New inspiration from brand new vantage points. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and feel the sensation of your belly dropping as our unicorns descend quickly back down to the ground. When you come back to your senses, The most magnificent castle sprawls across your field of vision, Surrounded by forests and gardens on all sides and guarded by a wrought iron gate and two noble kingsmen standing at attention. They look up to us and wave us in over the boundary of the gate, Not only welcoming us, But waiting for us to arrive. As suspected, Many of the escaped stories have taken refuge here in the kingdom. Princesses, Princes, Kings and queens all mosey about enjoying a place that feels so familiar to them. There's a warrior princess practicing her skills, Another princess having a tea party, And two more princesses covered in splashes of color from their artistic afternoon painting the landscapes. Now trotting rather than flying on our unicorns, They see the bright pink unicorn missing from their herd well before we do. They run as fast as they can toward her, Excited to finally reunite. You hold on as the warm air whooshes by you on all sides, Holding on to the reins and leaning into the silky flowing mane for stability. We are delivered to the biggest tree you've ever seen, One unlike any other, Because there's a door carved into the trunk of this one. We dismount to let the unicorns enjoy their reunion, And Harold leads the way into the door where one of our closest friends, Princess Powa, Is busily bumbling away in her workshop. Princess Powa isn't alone, Though. She has a cadre of other princesses as apprentices today. She is overjoyed to have so many helpers and ever happier to see us. An avid woodworker and crafter of all sorts, Princess Powa spends most of her time in her workshop creating things. All kinds of things. Stages for the plays she puts on, Pottery, Wood carvings, Patchwork quilts, Anything you can think of. There are likely supplies for it in this workshop in a tree. Oh, Hi Mrs. Honeybee, And Mr. Honeybee, And Melody Bee. Wow, Everyone is here. I wasn't expecting anyone, And now my workshop is full. What an adventure! We're working on a new set of bows and arrows to practice our archery later. Want to help? You make all your own bows and arrows? And I make my tools. Powa does it all, My dear. She built this entire workshop for herself. Wow! Wonderland! I bet there's at least one woodpecker story in here. It's my wonderland, And definitely theirs. That's actually what we came to talk to you about. All these visitors. You see, The stories escaped from my library again, And. . . Anne, Our dinosaur is waiting at the gate. It's having an allergic reaction to tomatoes. Is anyone in the kingdom a dinosaur vet? Uh, Not that I know of. Melody Bee, I told you, There's no such thing as a dinosaur vet. This is not good. This is not good. We came to get the stories back into their pages, Princess Powa, Because they got out. Put them back in their pages? We just got started. I've never had so many helping hands. Please let them stay, Mrs. And Mr. Honeybee. They fit right in here in the kingdom of Ronzio. They do seem really happy here. We're just down the way. We're so close. If anything goes wrong, I'll tell you right away. Please let them stay. What do you say, My little Honeybee? Should we let these stories stay too? Seeing how happy and helpful all the stories are, We all make the decision to let the escaped stories stay escaped here in the kingdom. Out living their best lives in the Honeybee neighborhood among the neighbors. Before Princess Powa can put us to work too, Chiseling chunks of wood into sleek arrows for archery practice, You ask her if she happened to see an invisible alien when the unicorn arrived, Or if she knows where the ninja could have taken the princesses hostage. The mere mention of an alien jogs her memory, And she runs off with a story about the arrival of all these stories. Melody Bee confirms her suspicions that the alien is using the rest of her transformation pollen to control their visibility, Since Powa was able to see him. Mr. Honeybee then explains all that's happened on this adventure so far. The invisible alien invasion, The message from the aliens on the typewriter, The missing unicorn that was borrowed, The princess that was taken by the ninja, And all about the book you're still holding. You haven't let your hands off this book since you saw that it could float, But now you ease up your grip and show Princess Powa how it levitates. She's amazed, Her eyes are wide with wonder and inspiration. Powa explains that we are mistaken about one thing though. The princesses weren't taken, As in taken hostage. They were recruited based on their particular skills. She couldn't quite understand the alien because the ninja stealthily swooped in and gathered up two princesses from the many that fled to the kingdom when they escaped. Something about an intergalactic mission, Or maybe something about dimensions? Hearing the word dimensions as a woodworker, Princess Powa immediately thought of measuring out her creations before making cuts. She reminds us of the maxim to always measure twice and cut once as a rule of thumb. It's the same rule that Mr. Honeybee uses, Though with a different thumb. Powa doesn't know the specifics of the mission, But she does know that the princesses they recruited were the ones who excelled at kickboxing. They were expert kickers who practiced with the ninjas. The princesses and the ninja were highly skilled, But the alien, Not so much. Powa had to wrangle the unicorn after the alien gave it confusing commands on the reins. They were flying and flipping in circles, Struggling to communicate. She didn't see where the alien went off to, Or the ninjas, Or the princesses for that matter. One thing she did see was that the alien asked a fairy to join their sojourn. What could the aliens want with a bioluminescent blossom and a fairy? Puzzling through the problem out loud, Mr. Honeybee's eyes light up with a bright idea. I think I know why the alien took that particular flower and a fairy. Powa, Would you say that the fairy they took was sparkly? Very sparkly. I love reading fairy tales. They're my favorite kind of story. I was so happy to meet one straight from the pages, It seems. The kingdom doesn't have any real fairies, As far as I know. Actually, Now that you mention it, They looked through all the fairies and took the sparkliest one. All the fairies? There were many? More than I could count. What are you thinking, Mr. Honeybee? I'm thinking that both the flower and the fairy are bright. They make their own light. It's like the answer is right in front of me, But I can't put it together. The moaning, Groaning sounds of a dinosaur in allergic distress cuts in on Melody Bee's excitement at meeting the fairies and sweeps all of us up into a whirlwind. We leave the stories to their work, Within their helpful parameters, And make our way out to the gate at the front of the castle. The dinosaur was too big to fit through, So instead of stomping the stone wall, It sits waiting for us patiently on the other side. The dino is happy to see us, But its boisterous joy is curtailed by the coughs. Melody Bee once again listens to its chest and reports a strong, Resilient heart. We will need to move slowly but steadily back home, Where we can let this dinosaur rest far from any tomatoes. Melody Bee thinks out loud what herbs from her garden can help with allergic reactions. That gives Mr. Honey Bee an idea. He radios into Roger Robot to take a deep dive into the paleontology literature and see if his analysis can help Melody Bee better understand their unique compositions and needs. While Roger Robot works on that, We walk alongside the still cheerful Triceratops, Following a different path home. One without so many trees, So there's more space for its gargantuan stomps. Going this way home takes us over rolling green hills and into the mountains. In all the hubbub of figuring out what the escaped stories did, Where they are now, How we're going to help a dinosaur that's clearly getting worse and worse by the minute, You come to realize that something has happened with the book in your hands. You come to a full stop and we all take notice, Looking intently at the book that still can hover in place without your hands. You show us how the book is now see-through. You let the book float up to eye level and we look at each other through the closed book. When you hold your hands out above it, You wave them around and around in circles as if you're casting a spell. The book floats up to meet your hands and follows your hands wherever they lead. You wave them in a crisscross motion, Going in two directions at once, And the book rolls in the air. Lifting the book up with a gesture, You look out to the mountainous landscape through the book as if it were goggles. Are there some kind of invisible strings making a puppet out of this book? If there are, Then only you have a handle on them, My little honey bee. The journey back is not as swift as the one to the kingdom. We are going at the pace of a rhythmic syncopation between the sounds of each of our many footsteps and coughs, Sneezes, Wheezes and groans from the dinosaur. One particularly turbulent sneeze kicks up a small dust storm that tornadoes down the empty country roads. We walk for so long that we seem to be in pace with the sun that moves across the sky slowly anticipating its own glorious sunset. Along the way, You busy your imaginative mind with a rousing game of hide and seek with the book. It has become so light that the sunlight pours through its slight transparency. At different moments, As if trying to catch it off guard, You suddenly jerk your hands away and run up ahead of the book. When you turn back, Every time without fail, The book is zipping towards you through the air and right back to your hands. Smiling and laughing, You grab hold of it and continue on our way. Checking on the dinosaur periodically, You look around the dusty hills of this part of the honeybee neighborhood and wonder how different the world looked when dinosaurs roamed the earth. In this exact spot, It doesn't seem like it's ever changed. Not so much as a single scurrying creature looks out from the hills, Or one that we can see at least. You imagine great tons of fossils laying dormant deep below the surface. Millions of years ago, This place could have been roaring with Jurassic competition. Now, It's serene and silent, Wide open and immense. Giving the struggling triceratops an encouraging pat on the belly while it lumbers step by step beside you, Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Send your breath down, Down, Down into your belly and try outlining the shape of your feet with the cool, Fresh air. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and let yourself be heavy, Planted sturdily on the ancient ground beneath your feet. Though we don't see anyone, A sudden feeling of us not being the only ones walking down this lonely road comes over us. Is the invisible alien here now, But we just can't see him? Where would he have gone next with two sources of light, A ninja and kickboxing princesses? It all doesn't seem to add up, That is, Until Mr. Honeybee gets an alert on one of his many communication devices. He never travels far without many means of reaching him, Via satellite phone, Walkie-talkie, Bluetooth earpiece, And, Funny enough, His Bluetooth earpiece is in the shape of a tooth that is blue. And he has a GPS tracking device. He gets GPS coordinates from lost hikers, Neighbors whose cars break down on road trips, And, Of course, From his glasses when he accidentally misplaces them and cannot see. Melody Bee attempted to set him up with a carrier pigeon, But she bonded too closely with it and now it's her carrier pigeon. Last I checked, Roger Robot can even communicate telepathically with Mr. Honeybee, Since Roger is his greatest creation to date. But this alert didn't come from any of these devices. It came from something that he wears on his wrist like a watch, Though it's so much more than a watch. It's a device that transmits all sorts of data from one of our bestest friends, A real-life superhero, And our around-the-corner neighbor, Captain EJ. Captain usually doesn't send Mr. Honeybee alerts. Typically, It's vice versa. Mr. Honeybee is sending urgent alerts out to Captain EJ when new missions come into the command center, Which Mr. Honeybee administers out of his garage. He answers the alert promptly with worry. Captain EJ, I copy. What's wrong? Over. Mr. Honeybee, I'm on my way to Dormir. There are reports of an alien invasion. Not kidding. Don't know why the mission brief is coming straight to me. Aren't you at command center? No, We're out wrangling. I mean, It's a long story. There is an alien invasion, Captain. I was trying to handle it before it got to you. But it seems they've made their way into Dormir, Too. We're coming from the kingdom of Ronzio. We're just outside Dormir. Really? I think we might have run into each other anyway. Oh, There you are. I see you all. Coming your way. We know we're never ever alone here in the Honeybee neighborhood, And this time it was Captain EJ about to cross our path. He is our resident superhero, With a one-of-a-kind power that you can hear. His power is his voice. We don't quite know the extent of his power, But he uses it for all sorts and strains of good around here, Especially in the remote mountain town of Dormir, Nestled between two of our highest mountain peaks. The residents of Dormir are unique, To say the least. Its location attracts many highly intelligent people from all walks of life. One of these people happens to be an aerospace engineer, And it's there that we finally find our invisible little alien friend, Standing, Pleading, More visible than ever at the doorstep of an accomplished rocket scientist that has sent numerous shuttles throughout the galaxy. The alien must have read the many adventures of Captain EJ and learned of the scientists and cutting-edge technology out in this corner of the Honeybee neighborhood in Dormir. But we do not find either the ninja, The glowing blossom, The fairy, Or the kickboxing princesses. They must be trying to find someone to help fix their ship, Or so we think. We see the visible alien pleading at the doorstep of the engineer, Trying to push himself into the front door before he sees us. When he does finally see us, We do not get a chance to ask about these other stories because he quickly sprinkles himself with transformation pollen and once again becomes invisible. Only a shimmery, Gelatinous outline bounces around the gigantic glass house of the rocket scientist. When we assure the alien that we are here to help, He slowly becomes more and more opaque until we can see him fully. Holding the transformation pollen in close, He pleads with the scientists in his alien language, Begging for the laboratory doors to be opened. The engineer finally obliges, And we follow the alien like you'd follow a bouncy ball until he bounces aggressively against a humongous magnet. The rocket scientist explains that she's working on an experiment with the world's most powerful magnet, But she has no earthly idea what this brave little alien leading a ship full of crashed aliens could want with a magnet. Rather than questioning any further, We simply let the story tell itself. Sometimes there's no substitute for learning by experience or letting others show us who they are without our questions, So we surrender fully to that principle. Reassured by our support, The littlest now visible alien that you found wedged between two ninja books hops back into your hand and bounces circles around you so grateful. With the happy alien in your hand, Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Allow the cool air to clear your mind of any preconceived notions of this little alien so you can more fully enjoy learning about him through his actions and his story. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and let yourself be swept up into this adventure as the rocket scientist activates the magnet despite being unsure of the purpose. The alien is ecstatic and his own alien joy creates an electrical charge of its own. He bounces around the walls of the laboratory, But his joy is so big that he bounces out the door and all around Melody B with her wheezing dinosaur. They are looking in through the big glass window, But the dinosaur cannot see anything at this point. Its eyes are swollen shut and the sneezes are continual. The boisterous alien accidentally zaps her with his electric impulse and in her shock, Melody B shouts out one last attempt to procure a Paleolithic veterinarian. Melody B's pleas echo through the valley as does the powerful force from the magnet. We're all watching and waiting in anticipation, No one more so than the brave little alien on an unknown mission. Watching, Waiting, Continuing to watch and continuing to wait. The rocket scientist looks to Captain EJ and Captain EJ looks to us and you look to the little alien who seems to be watching out the open door of the laboratory though nothing continues to happen. But then, Something registers on Captain EJ's main devices, A foldable helmet that Mr. Honeybee developed for him to be specially equipped for missions, The Battle Buzz helmet. This device measures all sorts of natural and supernatural forces so Captain can adapt his adept voice at a second's notice. Out on missions, Complex situations change rather rapidly. This alert signals that a strong electromagnetic force is approaching with a unique particle signature Mr. Honeybee and Captain EJ marvel over the readings and you get the sense that something is coming towards you, Right towards you. All of us duck for cover, Including the scientist behind her own magnet, Worried about the unintended as well as intended consequences. Then, We hear it. The alien cheers and you are the first to peek out from your cover to see all the shattered parts of a UFO magnetized back together, Stuck to the gigantic magnet. Unsure where his ship crashed, The alien is now once again in possession of it every last piece of it. This is where Mr. Honeybee jumps in to help just as the alien hoped he would. Mr. Honeybee assesses the pieces with the utmost care and ingenuity. It's as if we can see the formulations and calculations enumerating themselves in his mind orbiting around him. More than the aerospace engineer in her lab, Mr. Honeybee's garage full of prototypes doesn't stay within the confines of a single field of inquiry. He studies all sciences as well as meta-sciences to sniff out intellectual gaps forged by centuries of assumption and bias. Those gaps are where he spends his days out in the garage, Innovating and putting together puzzle pieces no one else was trying to fit. This little alien knows that and seems to need Mr. Honeybee and his garage in order to continue on his mission. Captain EJ knows the quickest way to get us back to Mr. Honeybee's garage. It's a nifty little early prototype, The teleportation remote. Piece by piece, Mr. Honeybee gathers in the UFO and you make sure not a scrap is left behind. You're grateful the book you're still carrying, Although barely visible, Can levitate on its own because this is a two-handed project. Captain EJ calls Melody Bee into the lab so he can teleport us together, But she's talking with someone outside, Someone we don't recognize. From the smile on her face, This person seems to be a friend. She peeks her head in to explain that for all the ways Mr. Honeybee is scientifically right, He was absolutely wrong that there isn't such a thing as a paleolithic veterinarian. Mr. Honeybee's jaw drops in shock and you have to politely put it back for him. No one ever knows what they'll find in Dormir, But Melody Bee seemed to be certain that she'd find this neighbor she's talking to. He's a vet with a special hobby, And an even more special love for fossils. He studied fossils so extensively, Perhaps more than veterinary medicine, That he projected all he knows about animal science into a hypothetical veterinary care plan should he ever encounter a dinosaur. This neighbor that heard Melody Bee's pleading calls answered with his life's work. He thought paleolithic veterinary science was just a fun project, But now he realizes that his one-of-a-kind speculations need to be put to the test. He's delighted to meet the dinosaur, And the Triceratops is delighted to meet him. Even though it's swollen, Wheezing, And so very allergic to tomatoes, The dinosaur is comfortable on the desolate rolling hills of this remote mountain town. The vet even thinks that Triceratops like this very dino roamed this very spot millions of years ago. We look over to see the dinosaur rolling over like a pup, Scratching its back on the protruding rocks and the hard-packed dirt. The dinosaur lets out contented grumbles, Which call more escaped dinosaur stories out from their hiding spots. Their gargantuan steps rumble the ground beneath our feet as they all gallop over to their new best friend, The dino vet. He is dumbfounded. And cannot believe this is real, That this is really happening. The dinosaur's story has deeply impacted his own, As if they were leading right towards each other. Melody B is endeared by what feels like a reunion, Bringing the dinosaurs back to their ancestral land and into the hands of someone who believed in them before he saw them and prepared for this very moment. She pleads with us to let the dinosaurs stay out of their pages because they are so happy and once again, We decide to let them be. So far, We haven't managed to get any of the stories back in the book and the book seems to know that. You play a game of tag with it trying to wrangle it into the teleportation pad where we all assemble along with the alien and the scraps of his ship. It's barely visible and light as a balloon. You hold on even tighter so as not to lose track of it. With a click of the remote, We teleport all the way back to Mr. Honeybee's garage. And land heavy on our feet in a flurry of color and static. Nobody thought to warn Roger Robot that we were coming and coming instantly by teleportation at that. At that very second, Roger Robot could have zeroed in on Mr. Honeybee's thoughts, Ones that would give him a hint of his coming. But he wasn't thinking about what Mr. Honeybee was thinking. Instead, Roger was thinking about borrowing one of Mr. Honeybee's most exciting prototypes before he explicitly asked to. Assuming that the answer would be yes and also assuming that he could have the prototype back in its cabinet drawer before Mr. Honeybee would go looking for it. Both of Roger Robot's assumptions were incorrect. We accidentally catch the blue robot red-handed in the act perusing the drawers of Mr. Honeybee's prototype cabinet. He all but disintegrates into a pile of wires from the scare. Ah, Mr. Honeybee, Don't sneak up on a robot like that. I have lasers. You scared me. I can see that. I can also see that prototype you're trying to hide behind your back, Roger. Oh, Oh, This? This is yours? Oh, Oh, That's right. I was going to get a head start on it for some preliminary testing. Isn't this thing set to launch pretty soon? Have I ever told you how brilliant you are? Preliminary testing, Huh? What tests were you going to do? I was going to do some preliminary ones, You know. Okay, Roger Robot. How about this? What is that prototype you're holding? What's it called? What does it do? Oh, This? You mean this prototype? This one I'm holding right here. Why don't you think about what this does, Huh? How much do you actually know about this creation of yours? Oh, I know a lot. And I'm not going to think about any of it, So you can't read my mind. Fine, Fine, Fine, Fine, Fine. I know what this is. It's a black hole flashlight. What on earth are you doing with that? It's not so much as to what I'm doing on Earth, Per se. It's a long story, But the salient point would be that I accidentally created a couple black holes. Black holes? Roger, That's so dangerous. I know, I know. It was in the name of innovation, But I'm going to fix it. Good, Because I pushed my luck finding a Paleolithic vet. I don't think I can find a galaxy doctor in this short notice. Wait a minute. We're all glossing over a very important question. How does one accidentally create a black hole? That's the part that's a long story. How can I put this? Oh, You know when you were mending Mr. Honeybee's socks last week, And you accidentally made them too big? What did you do then? I remember. He had socks with holes in the toes, And other socks with holes in the heels. So I sort of grafted the socks onto each other. But I didn't cut the different socks at the same length in half, So some socks were way longer than they needed to be. So when I realized I made a mistake, I just ripped out the seam I sewed. How does that relate to creating black holes? Well, Sometimes I have a really big idea. One that I want to take my time thinking through. On many such occasions, I much prefer that time stop for a minute. Just a little pause. So I retreated into my cubby, As one does, And just sort of ripped the seams out of space-time. Space-time? Yeah, There's this annoying thing where space cannot exist outside of time in this dimension, In this universe. So with a little spin of my wheel, I just snip-snip, Split the seams of the fabric of space-time. No biggie. I actually do this a lot. And I never thought there'd be much to it. I just float through the multiverse and parse through my idea in excruciating detail. Then I come back. So, Today, I just figured out that every time I do that, And every time I did that, I created a black hole. So now I just need this flashlight to find him and sew him back up. Should be easy. What? Uh, Okay. We can't worry about that right now, Roger. I need to fix this ship. You can borrow the black hole flashlight. Borrow as in bring back when you're done? Thanks, Mr. H. I'll see you soon. I'll be in the multiverse if you need me. But please don't need me. Well, If you need-need me, Let me know. Two needs, Not just one. Bye! Mr. Honeybee gets right to work fixing the alien spaceship with you by his side as his right-hand helper. You fish out all sorts of tools from his tool chest and hand them over his two workbenches that are completely full with prototypes, Each labeled and categorized in what seems like a complex system. There are staplers that turn into pogo sticks, Teleportation remotes with multiple channels, A stack of robot parts for Roger Robot's yearly hardware updates, More computers and computer screens than you can count, And a wonderland of color and rhythmic beeping from a plethora of electronic devices. Hunched over the workbench, We each fetch him different highly specialized tools that Mr. Honeybee has gathered over the years. When he asks you for a trace gas analyzer, You survey his entire command center for something, Anything, That looks like it could analyze trace amounts of gases or something like that. You rummage through the prototype cabinet, Which is so tall that you have to climb up the metal shelving before Melody Bee and I flutter over with a ladder for you to climb. Standing before a garage full of fascinating tools, Flanked on either side by the supportive two friends, Me and Melody Bee, Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose and start climbing to the top. Right hand, Right foot. Left hand, Left foot. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and reach up as high as you can to barely grasp the gray handle of what looks like a heavy-duty briefcase. When you bring it to Mr. Honeybee, He explains that this is no briefcase. This is what astronauts use on space missions to detect the tiniest leak in their shuttle. Mr. Honeybee is conducting that first of many tests on this new ship to ensure that no trace of the dinosaur stomp is detectable. Whatever the invisible alien mission is here in the Honeybee neighborhood, He wants to ensure they can finish it. He has worked quickly, Much more quickly than the alien anticipated. When the alien realizes this, He opens the garage door and puts out a call to other invisible aliens. At first, You cannot see anyone joining us in the empty space of the garage, But you guess that they've amassed huge numbers from the slight iridescent film that lays over the concrete floor. The rest of the aliens that crash-landed don't have a sprinkling of transformation pollen to make them visible. Like one gigantic wobbly bubble floating, The invisible alien army marches along the perimeter of the garage. They're not moving aimlessly around in circles. They're moving with purpose, Towards something. The littlest, Bravest alien we've been following on this adventure leads them around and around the edges where the wall meets the floor. They go around and around, Knocking on the wall as they go, Before finally, The alien we can see stops in front of the little cubby door that Roger Robot left through. Roger Robot's cubby looks small and unassuming, But by now you know better than to judge a book by its cover. Just like this book, Still floating about your hands, Now almost as invisible as the aliens. A mere trace of what it was when we started out after the alien that's now knocking furiously on Roger's cubby. Since we know that Roger Robot does not want to be bothered doing whatever he's doing, Wherever he is inside that little door, You try to distract and dissuade the little alien from knocking so much. But he continues. Not only does he continue, But he uses his last sprinkle of transformation pollen to turn up the opacity of the invisible alien army, Which has gathered in full in the garage to make them completely visible to us. We squish in tighter and tighter as each of the innumerable aliens that surround us becomes visible and take up more space. When they were transparent, You could see through them, But also walk through them. Now that they're opaque, You can see the glee on their faces as they push in around Roger's cubby door. Though the book in your hands is light as a feather and now much less visible than the aliens, We make a last-ditch effort to direct at least one of the escaped stories back into the pages. The aliens beg and plead with us to stay, All of them talking in their alien language at the same time, But the sentiment is clear. The bravest little alien leading them pushes through the horde and explains that he is on a mission, A special mission. It's the most important mission he's ever been on, And it sounds like he's been on many. And more than that, He is certain that this mission is almost completed. He promises, Pleading with all his heart, That if we just let him complete this mission, He will stay within their parameters. More than that, He'll cram as much story within the parameters as possible, Exploring unknown realms and diving into new dimensions that we have an open invitation to. Just then, The ninja, Both kickboxing princesses, And the fairy carrying the bioluminescent blossom rush in through the crowd to connect with the alien. Together, They plead and plead, Keeping a mindful eye on the door to the cubby. Just as we did with the other escaped stories, We concede and let this persistent, Resourceful alien continue his mission to. . . Roger's Cubby? They won't quit until they finally succeed in getting Roger's attention, Just as Mr. Honeybee finishes up the finishing touches on their sparkling new spaceship. When Roger Robot opens his cubby door, Completely unaware of what is now on the other side, None of our warnings make it to his electronic ears. Quicker than our minds can process the movements, All of the aliens, The ninja, The princesses, And the fairy stream into the impossibly small spacecraft and zip into the cubby door, Shrinking themselves in the process. The sheer force of the ship filled with so many aliens passing by on their mission sends Roger Robot into a tailspin. Do they know where they're going? It sounded like it. They're on a special mission, But didn't explain more than that. Roger, I can't believe I've never asked this before, But the last I saw of your cubby, You had a little charging station that you used as a bed. Maybe the aliens ran out of battery? I don't think they have batteries, Melody Bee. Why would the aliens' mission lead him to your cubby? What's in there? The charging station, Probably, And a couple other things. You tucked the black hole flashlight into your cubby. Are the couple other things black holes? Did you find them, By the way? Yes and yes. So you're messing with space-time in there? That's what you meant by defying physics? I thought that was just a figure of speech. The only figures I know are in formulas, Which I get bored with. Once you memorize all of physics and all of calculus and all of, Well, Everything, You would find yourself like I did, Wanting something bigger. I would literally spin myself in circles trying to think up more and more complex logic puzzles and mathematical riddles. But one day, After I unraveled the knot of string theory, I spun myself into such a tizzy that I kinda figured out how to travel to new dimensions. So that's what I'm doing in my cubby. Wow, Roger. Your intelligence is astounding. You must have accidentally communicated with the aliens' planet or something. That's it. You're exactly right, My dear. I was just reading about superstring theory and our 11 dimensions. I bet you entered their dimension and gave them a path to higher dimensions. I haven't gotten past the 9th dimension, But that's my goal. I literally just got back from the edge of the 9th dimension because of all that knocking. Roger, What happens in the 9th dimension? So glad you asked. I can talk about this forever. And in the 9th dimension, That could be a possibility. The 9th dimension is where we can compare all the possible universe histories starting with all the different possible laws of physics and initial conditions. But the 10th. . . What's in the 10th? And 11th? In the 10th and 11th, We finally arrive at the point in which everything possible and imaginable is covered. Completely. In every way. It's the theory of everything. All at once. It must just be marvelous. We need to go after them. We need to get there. Why, Mrs. Honeybee? They'll have to come back eventually. Can't we just see them when they get back? No. We need to get there. That dimension. . . Which one? The everything dimension. That is the edge of the Honeybee neighborhood. That's what I was attempting to do with that book our little Honeybee is. . . Was holding. Who's coming with me? My dear, We can't just travel to the 10th dimension willy-nilly. Sure you can. What? Come on. I'll show you. Roger Robot excitedly leads us into his castle. It's a cubby. But before you crawl through the small door after Mr. Honeybee, Melody Bee, And Harold, You realize that the book you were holding, The one that was floating, Is now completely gone. I crawl in the door but don't hear you coming after me, So I turn back to see you standing perfectly still. You pause there in the garage, Enjoying the silence after so much commotion. Look all the way to one side to see Mr. Honeybee's workbench with scattered tools and prototypes strewn about. Look all the way to the other side where totally typical garage stuff sits unmoved. You cannot see the book, But you still feel like it's here. And with that tentative conclusion, You dive into the door and we catch up to Roger Robot who leads us through a maze of tunnels. The deeper we go, The darker and bigger it gets until we come to the darkest point of the maze. Roger tells us that the spaceship full of stories doesn't know the way, But he does, And he knows a shortcut. Tapping into his GPS software, Roger projects a light above his head that shows our location as a big red dot and their location as a big black dot. They seem far away, But with another sudden turn, We cut the distance in half. The alien ship is going the right direction, But we're going to get there first. Another sharp turn through the darkness leads us to a surprising sight. A perfect circle is drawn in the darkness with sizzling electricity. This is where the spaceship is racing to and where the alien's mission will likely leave. On the other side of this threshold, Roger Robot says that the rules of Earth no longer apply in the same way. We have to be ready. Before we can decide how we can ever be ready to enter such a realm, This spaceship zips around the corner and nearly crashes into us. Now, We're all back together once again. You should be considering whether you're ready to enter new dimensions, But you're consumed in thought about where the book went. It feels as if it's in your hands at times, But when you look down, It's not. There's no time to think or feel or even direct your movements. Everything feels jumbled as we huddle together in front of this door-like portal. It's here with this sizzling energy that we'll be able to launch. As long as we're together, We know we can do anything in this dimension or beyond. With our minds and our hearts open, We know that we're ready. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel all the possibilities, All the stories, And the purest form of love swell in your chest with your breath. Hold it for a moment, Pulling your center of gravity into your heart. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and relax every single one of your muscles until they are soft and squishy. Make yourself heavier. Sink deeper into the weightlessness as you are carried through the 5th, 6th, 7th dimension. Here, You can see all possible worlds within and around you, All possibilities that you ever wondered about, All possible outcomes that you've ever worried about. They all exist here. You can see them, Bright and beautiful. Hope rushes through you, But we continue on to the next dimension and the next, Floating around and around each other, Experiencing the closest thing we've ever experienced to true infinity. Roger Robot takes on the technology of the black hole flashlight prototype he borrowed and begins searching frantically as the flashlight itself. This is where he started altering the seams of the fabric of space-time. This is where the pesky black holes he accidentally created lurk. Few things ever make it out of a black hole, But Roger Robot is one of them. And it's this feat of innovation that the aliens needed on their mission. Because, Like potholes on a country road, They too are slowed down by black holes on their way to the deepest dimension, Which Roger Robot hasn't even been able to breach. This is where the tangled threads of the invisible alien story come together in a bow. Black holes are so named because light cannot escape it, But the light of the flashlight Roger Robot transformed into is strong enough to at least show the outlines. There are many black holes that we have to navigate expertly around, And when we do, The ninja, The two princesses, And the fairy carrying the bioluminescent blossom descend from the spaceship with tethers connected to their waists. They are now free to float around the ship, Leading it like a pack of sled dogs chasing after snow. We follow them in the powerful beams of Roger's light to one last black hole that stands between us and the deepest dimension, The edge of the honeybee neighborhood where all possibility exists at once, Together. This is where the fairy and her bloom take the lead. Ever so sweetly, The demure little fairy flutters up to the black hole. She holds the blossom up to her mouth puffs up her cheeks and blows the bioluminescent pollen into the black hole. Instead of a vacuum of light and substance, We now see a shimmering infinity expand in all directions. The effects of the fairy's spell is temporary, So we quickly follow behind the spaceship and successfully travel through the black hole, Which leaves us at the precipice of the final dimension, Which is where the ninjas and the princesses are up next. They move as if they are swimming to the front of the ship, Carrying it and leading us as far as we can go. They stand in a line with the ninja in the middle with one last glance and confident smiles, The ninja swipes the dimensional walls with his hand just as the two princesses kick their strongest kick. Together, They burst through with ease. What does everything at once in slow motion look like to you? Pictures flashing with just enough time to live each of the rich details. Floating weightlessly, Yet held in perfect contentment, Knowing you are safe and enough and beautiful just as you are. Let yourself feel the joy of this dimension. Go where it leads you and know that there is no end or limit, A true infinity. In a state of shock, Roger Robot transforms back into his blue robot self. He's been formulating, Calculating, And working nonstop to get here, And all it took was a fairy, A flower, A ninja, And two princesses. He is in awe and doesn't feel the need to transform any further. Because he is already all that he can be at the exact same time. There is no choice but to be exactly who you are here. Because here, You can be all that you are at once. All the multitudes you contain, All the things you wish you could say, All the hopes you've ever hoped are real here, And you can visit each one like walking into a new world. It's here that you realize what happened with the book that you were so diligently carrying, The one that you were able to pick up and hold when no one else could. You look down and see that the book now lives in your heart, Which glows as bright as the sun. Just like all along this twisting, Turning, Winding adventure, You continue to carry this book, The honeybee neighborhood, Wherever you go. Just like you carry all the possibility, Love, And infinity that you have within you. Like I said back in my writing room, That wasn't just a book you were carrying. It was my heart in book form. Now, My little honeybee, I can write stories that go directly from my heart to yours. And we can meet here whenever you need an entire world full of friends. There's only one question left to ask, I suppose. Where do you want to go next? Always remember, Mrs. Honeybee believes in you. You are special, And you are loved. I can't wait to see you again. Bedtime with Mrs. Honeybee Today, We'll be going on an adventure in the honeybee neighborhood where a special delivery is already on its way, Just for you. All you have to do is close your eyes, Get cozy, And listen to the sound of my voice. Mrs. Honeybee will be your guide. Let's begin. You are here in the honeybee neighborhood about to turn the corner and walk up our driveway to knock on the front door. As you walk, Enjoying the sunshine and the warm breeze, You hear footsteps behind you. Who could that be? You walk a little faster toward the brightly colored front door. You're just about there. You feel a tap on your shoulder. You slowly turn around to see our friendly mail carrier smiling back at you. He can't even remember the last time he saw you, But he is so, So happy to see you now. He's in a rush today. He has more packages than he does time, And you're just the help he needs. The mail carrier looks down to rummage through his enormous messenger bag. He has a very special delivery. He knows he can trust you with this package that was sent urgently with a fragile sticker on it if he could only find it. He asks you to hold what was in his hands, And you grab a stack of magazines and envelopes from him. The mail carrier continues to dig through his bag, Placing more and more packages that tower in your outstretched arms. It's a struggle to balance it all, But he knows he had it in here somewhere. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Distill your mind and find balance. Then, Slowly, Breathe out through your mouth. Your exhale blows the front cover of the Honey Bee Neighborhood bulletin up. You peek over the pile of packages to see a glimpse of an upcoming neighborhood-wide ceremony, But the mail carrier finds the package before you can get a good look. He quickly takes everything from you and in exchange hands you the tiniest box you've ever seen. You sign your name on the mail carrier's scanner and it beeps when it's accepted. He rushes off down the driveway and you spin around to walk up to the front door. What can be so tiny and so important inside this package? You inspect it on all sides and hold it up to your ear, Wondering whether you can hear anything. In all of this, You still have it knocked on the door, But before you can, You hear Harold rushing to the door and Melody Bee shouting from inside. They're here! They're here! The seeds are here! Yes, Harold, I do, Too, Know that they're here. The pigeon sent their signal. Wait, I always forget how to unlock this door. Is it this way? No, No, It's this way. Actually, It goes this way and like this. Not expecting anyone to be on the other side, Harold and Melody Bee dash out of the house and right into you. When they realize it's you, They give you a big hug instead and completely forget about the delivered package. Harold jumps up on your legs, Eagerly waiting to be pet, Then sits down at your feet. Hello, My little honey bee. I'm so happy you're here. What do you have there? Did I get it? Did I hear someone say that the seeds are here? Oh, Hello, My little honey bee. It's so nice to see you again. Oh, That must be the seeds for the. . . Well, You'll see. Come on in. Now that you're here, We'll be able to get started on one of the most important events in honey bee neighborhood history. Harold never lets you out of his sight when you're here. Harold, Give our friend space to walk in the door at least. Silly pup. Still holding the package, You walk through the open door with Harold happily trotting by your side wearing a big puppy smile. We will sit down at the kitchen table where freshly baked cookies are cooling. Mr. Honey Bee pulls a chair out for you, Our special guest. This is where you usually sit when you visit, Right? We always think of this as your chair at the dinner table. You sit down in the comfy chair and place the tiny box on the table next to the glass that fills up with freshly squeezed lemonade. We all sit around the table looking at the package. Melody Bee asks, Did you shake it? How do they sound? These seeds traveled so far. You pick it up and lightly shake it for everyone to hear. Ooh, They sound strong. This is so exciting. Well, My little Honey Bee, You intercepted a very important delivery that traveled all the way down the Honey River to get to us. What's in that box will be with us with the Honey Bee neighborhood for the next 300 years or maybe even 400. You are such a special part of the neighborhood that we wanted to make sure you were here when we started this important process. We are going to plant an oak tree. An oak tree in the middle of the Honey Bee neighborhood for hundreds of years. As you know, The mighty oak grows from the tiniest acorn. Once we get it started, The whole neighborhood is going to be a part of our ceremony. This isn't just any tree. It will be at the heart center of the Honey Bee neighborhood and it will grow along with us, Nurtured by all the love and friendship found here. We can watch it grow over the years. Maybe we can even build a tree house when it's big enough. And have a tire swing or a hammock as a perfect addition to the neighborhood. Go ahead. Do us the honors of opening the package. You look to the sides of the tiny box to see where you can open it. You pull a flap up on the side and peek inside. There's an even tinier paper bag. You slowly pull it out and unwrap One by one, You place them gently on the table in a line. They are each wearing little beige caps and wobble as they settle on the tabletop. Mr. Honey Bee steps away for a moment to grab something from the kitchen cover. These are four of the best acorns harvested from the mightiest oak tree in the Midwest. Hopefully, At least one of these will be strong enough to be our Honey Bee neighborhood tree. We will, Of course, Have to do the float test first. Melody Bee picks up one of the acorns and holds it up close inspecting it. You do the same. Reach out to pick up one of the tiny acorns and hold it up to your eye. This teeny-tiny acorn that's no bigger than your fingertip now will grow over 70 feet high. That's two two-story houses stacked on top of each other. It just goes to show that no matter how great something seems, It started off as something very, Very small. The tree has to be ready to experience its own greatness. Until then, It quietly grows. Mr. Honey Bee comes back from the cupboard and places two more glasses down on the table, Each one in front of a seed. He then goes back to the cupboard and comes back with two more glasses. You set the acorn back down on the table so he can put a glass in front of it. Then you take a refreshing drink of the sweet lemonade. Harold jumps up into your lap for a better view of the acorns. You pet his fluffy ears as Mr. Honey Bee continues. We just need to do a quick experiment to determine which of the seeds are ready to become oak trees. We fill up all these cups with water. Then we put the acorns in the water to see if any of them float. Did you know the float test also works with eggs? You can tell which eggs are fresh if they stay at the bottom of the water. If they float, They're not fresh eggs. Same with these acorns. We're going to be acorn scientists this afternoon. Before we dunk the acorns, We need to remove their caps. Sitting around the table, We each take one of the acorns and gently pull their beige caps off. Harold holds his snout up to sniff the acorn cap. He tries to eat it like he tries to eat everything. But you make sure he doesn't get it. You set the acorn and its cap back on the table out of the reach of Harold's snout. All five of the acorns are solid and strong. It doesn't look like the birds or the worms got to them yet. Sometimes acorns will be hollowed out by little forest creatures. They make the acorn float and we know they won't germinate or sprout. We need heavy acorns that stay at the bottom of the glass. Mr. Honeybee picks up the first acorn and plops it into the water. And it falls all the way to the bottom. Little bubbles float up to the top and we all watch from the side at the bottom of the glass until it slowly begins to float up to the top. This one won't work. I'll go next. Melody Bee's acorn doesn't even make it to the bottom of the glass before it begins to float and settles on the surface of the water. Ugh, Darn. Okay, Your turn Melody Bee. Goes over to the glass of water and dropped the acorn in. It sinks all the way to the bottom and seems to stay there. We watch for a couple more seconds in case it decides to float like the other one. It continues to stay at the bottom. That means this acorn is good to go. This is the last one. Do you think it's going to float? I think it will sink. I can just tell. I don't know. It might be a floater in disguise. We'll see. Here it goes. The acorn sinks slowly down much slower than the others. As we watch closely take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. When you breathe all the way out through your mouth let yourself be heavy and sink down to be even more cozy. It looks like the acorn floats perfectly still in the middle of the glass. It bobs back up a little then falls all the way to the bottom where it settles. Here's our contender. We have two acorns that are ready to move on to the next step. We just need two paper towels and plastic bags that can zip closed. The heavy, Healthy seeds that sink to the bottom will need to germinate next. Seeds like to germinate in cool, Dark places just like how us humans like to sleep in the dark. When we sleep our brains restore our bodies and replenish our energy. When seeds are in cool, Dark places they open up and send out their sprouts. You take one of the paper towels and dip it into the glass of water until it's completely submerged. Then wring it out until all the water drips away. We lay the paper towels out flat and wrap each of the seeds in their own paper towel blanket. This will give them enough moisture to sprout. Once they're wrapped up we place them in the plastic bag zip them up and let them rest for as long as they need. We can put them in the back of the refrigerator so they can acclimate and live outside in the honeybee neighborhood. Harold jumps down to lead the way to the refrigerator. You open the door and place both baggies on one of the back shelves. You see a container of Harold's treats on the same shelf. Since he's been such a good boy you take a treat out and ask him to sit. He quickly sits and you pet him. You ask him to shake and hold out your hand. He lifts his paw up to your hand and wags his tail. You pet his head and give him his treat. You are one of his favorite people. We wait and wait at the germination station careful not to disturb the sprouts. When the day finally comes to check in on the acorns we all stand before the shelves. You grab the first baggie and carefully open it. You gently unwrap it to reveal a strong root that has grown out of the bottom of the acorn. A tiny green stem has sprouted out of the top and it has an even tinier leaf beginning to bud. This is a success! Now you check the other bag and unwrap the second acorn. It too has a root and a sprout but both are much smaller than the other one. Both acorns have developed roots and can be put in water. We set them up in their own vases of water for the roots to get even stronger. There they continue to grow slowly at first but then all at once. The stems reach for the ceiling and the leaves double then triple. In the meantime Mr. Honeybee has been working on a special surprise that he is excited to show you. I've been working on this for a while but it's finally ready to house its first visitors. Mr. Honeybee leads us through the side of the garage to where he's built a little greenhouse. It's covered with windows to let enough sunlight in to keep the room warm enough for our plants even during the winter. Melody Bee can hardly believe her eyes. Mr. Honeybee this is incredible. We can grow so much in here. The first tenant of the greenhouse will be our mighty oak seedlings. This will be the perfect place to introduce the seedlings to their new pots. I bet the roots have doubled by now. Let's go grab them from the windowsill my little honeybee. You'll be surprised how much they've grown. Back in the kitchen you take hold of one of the vases. There are several offshoots from the main stem now and several leaves. You peek into the vase to see the roots have tangled around each other. Roots love to be tangled like that. The other acorn has one stem and several leaves. We walk back to the greenhouse where Mr. Honeybee and Melody Bee have set up two pots that we will plant the seedlings in. Harold was very helpful to get us gardening gloves and a watering can. Thank you Harold. You're such a good helper. Mr. Honeybee can you grab us a shovel and that big bag of soil? Of course my dear. With that we're all ready to plant our seedlings in their pots. You dig the shovel into the bag of soil and fill each of the pots about halfway. Then you hold the vase of the strongest seedling still while Melody Bee flutters above the leaves and gently pulls the stem out of the vase. A tangled knot of roots slowly emerges. So many have grown in such a short period of time that they have taken the shape in the vase. Melody Bee flutters over the pot and lowers the first seedling into the soil where we very gently cover the roots with more soil until they're fully tucked in. You run your gardening gloved hand over the top of the soil and pat it down to make room for even more. Melody Bee sprinkles some of the magic plant food on the very top. We do the second one the same way and then water both of them thoroughly. You are very diligent about checking in on the seedlings and making sure they have everything they need. You take excellent care of them as you would. When we began the strongest seedling was about two inches tall. Under your care it more than tripled its size. Now it stands over six inches tall. Mr. Honey Bee double checks the measurements and it's actually seven and a half inches tall. You took such good care of our oak tree now it's more than ready. The other seedling would like more time to grow so we'll let this one take all the time it needs. Perhaps this one wants to grow into a bonsai tree. No matter how a tree grows up or how big it gets it will be perfect just as it is. How boring the Honey Bee neighborhood would be if the bees were exactly the same. As you took care of these special seedlings you might not have noticed but they seem to have grown just as you have. Following your lead these seedlings have grown in their own unique ways and are well on their way to becoming the most perfect seedlings they can be. A little every day into the most perfect you. Stronger, Smarter, And kinder than you were yesterday. When you come back the next time we will be ready to transplant the tree on the hill in the center of the Honey Bee neighborhood. You arrive back it's now 10 inches tall and so strong. You pick up the pot from the table and see a flyer sitting under it. There's a ring of water that dripped through the bottom of the pot but you're still able to read it. This is a copy of the Honey Bee neighborhood bulletin that's announcing the tree planting ceremony which is taking place today. All of the neighbors are invited to see you break ground on top of the hill where this mighty oak seedling will preside over the Honey Bee neighborhood for centuries. You are the guest of honor and everyone will be so happy to see you. Melody Bee joins you in the greenhouse carrying a little pouch of special plant food. Mr. Honey Bee comes out of the garage with a wheelbarrow and sets it down just outside the door. Are you ready to transplant the Honey Bee neighborhood oak tree my little Honey Bee? Together we walk to the center carrying the seedling some extra soil and Harold in the wheelbarrow. The sun is shining and it's a beautiful day to plant a tree. Take a slow deep breath in through your nose feel your chest and your spirits lift with excitement then slowly breathe out through your mouth as we arrive at the oak tree's forever home. Here in the middle of the Honey Bee neighborhood there's a sprawling park with tall green grass. Today it's full of people who are grateful to spend this special time with us. For years to come as the oak tree and the neighborhood grow we will all be able to say when it's 70 feet tall we'll be able to say we knew it when it was just 7 inches tall. What a precious memory we are making together. The seedling will be transplanted up on the top of this little hill that we need to walk up. Left foot right foot When we get to the top Mr. Honey Bee sets the wheelbarrow down and we prepare the supplies. We have our gloves our shovels watering cans and a few other things we'll need. The rest of the neighborhood joins us at the top of the hill as the ceremony commences. Hello lovely neighbors thank you so much for coming to our special celebration. One of our best friends here whom you all know has taken such good care of this seedling that now it's ready to plant. It is that much closer to being a fixture in the neighborhood that we all get to enjoy for years to come. As you reach for the shovel the crowd gives you a round of applause. You wave to everyone with a big smile on your face. With a shovel in your hand you take another slow deep breath in through your nose and raise the shovel up. When you breathe out through your mouth you dig the shovel into the soft soil where the oak tree will live. Everyone cheers as you dig out the rest of the hole big enough for the seedling's many roots. Before we transplant the oak tree we will need to make sure its new home is a new environment. You slowly saturate the ground with water letting it seep into the soil. It takes all four of us but together we wiggle the oak seedling from its temporary home and lower it into its permanent home at the center of the neighborhood. We cover the roots completely to make sure they are completely and tucked in. Then we pat it down gently. Melody B sprinkles a little extra plant food as a snack for its first night in its forever home. Mr. Honey B carefully measures 10 feet out from where the tiny tree is currently planted. This is how far the roots will spread underground when the tree is fully grown. Within that circumference a 10 foot circle around the tree we cannot let any other plants grow. The roots are very delicate when they're young and growing so we all need to protect this space. A little plant that has sprouted in the middle of that circle. She flutters down to the ground and carefully plugs it from the soil roots and all. She will give this a home back in the garden so the oak tree can have all the room its roots need. Mr. Honey B brought along around the perimeter of that 10 foot circle he begins to build a little fence to remind everyone of how special this space is. Together we will build this little barrier all the way around the tree until we meet again where we started. The crowd begins to thin as the ceremony comes to a close. As everyone is walking back down the hill a single squirrel scurries the opposite way all the way up the hill to us. Harold barks when the visitor arrives doing his best not to chase our new friend. Squirrels and oak trees have a very special relationship in nature. Squirrels not only eat acorns but they also help oak trees grow more trees. It's a very special service the squirrels provide. They collect so many acorns that they cannot fit them all in their cheeks. What they do is bury the acorns in secret spots like squirrel treasure. Every so often they look at where they buried their treasure and from that spot a new oak tree will grow. This squirrel wants to help the honeybee neighborhood oak tree grow so he can have more acorns than he's ever imagined possible. The squirrel agrees not to bury any acorns around here so this tree can grow as big and strong as he wants. Not only that but the squirrel will gather a select group of his best squirrel friends to be the oak tree guardians. Together they will continue your wonderful work of making sure this ceiling gets everything it needs. They will keep it company at night when the rest of the day is nice and warm. In return the oak tree will grow up tall and give many many squirrels and birds the perfect home. Here we all help each other in obvious ways and less obvious ways. You are an important part of our honeybee neighborhood ecosystem my little honeybee and I'm so happy to spend time with you. We will be able to come back and visit the oak tree to watch it grow. In return over the years it will watch the honeybee neighborhood grow even bigger even stronger even kinder than it was the day before. Always remember that Mrs. Honeybee believes in you. You are special and you are loved. I can't wait to see you again. Bedtime with Mrs. Honeybee Today we'll be going on an adventure in the honeybee neighborhood into Harold's doggy dream. Have you ever wondered what dogs dream about? Oh, I want to know. I want to know. Well, Let's find out. Right behind you, Mrs. Honeybee. All you have to do is close your eyes get cozy and listen to the sound of my voice. Mrs. Honeybee will be your guide. Let's begin. You are here in the honeybee neighborhood strolling through the forest of trees that are filled with birds singing their songs. You've decided to take the secret way to the honeybee house cutting through the forest just like Harold showed you on your last walk together. You're on the lookout for the tree with a hole in its trunk. That's where you're supposed to turn right which will lead you directly to the backyard. The sun is shining down on you through the trees and the leaves crunch beneath your footsteps. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Let the fresh air fill your lungs. Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and continue down this little hill. The forest that surrounds the honeybee neighborhood is bursting with activity. But just up ahead you see one quiet tree the one with a hole in the trunk. You tiptoe up to it knowing you need to be as quiet as possible when you peek inside. Standing up on your tippy toes you peek in to see the friendly owl who lives there. He slowly swivels his head around and winks one eye open from his afternoon nap to say hello. He loves it when you stop by on your way to visit us. You leave him to enjoy the rest of his nap and take a right turn. That's when you see our backyard. The sunflowers in the garden are even taller than the fence. They seem to smile back at you as you unlatch the gate and walk into the backyard. Melody B is on the other side of the yard collecting dandelions that are newly fluffed and ready for wishes. She already has a handful picked by the time she sees you come through the gate. Buzz, Buzz, Buzz. Holding enough dandelions for everyone she buzzes over to say hello. Oh, Hello. I'm in the back way today. Did you see the owl? Did he look okay? He has new neighbors the woodpeckers. They do not understand his need for daytime naps. They're up early pecking wood just when he's settling in for bed. He's actually been a little cranky lately. Here, I picked you a dandelion. I have one for Hale, Too. I know he is so excited to see you today. I'm surprised he's not out here already. Come on, Let's go inside and find him. Hello, My little honeybee. I'm so glad you're here. I was just looking for Harold, Too. I thought I heard him. Do you hear that? Yeah, I do. Where is that coming from? Mrs. Honeybee, Melody Bee, He's in here in the office with me. Come look at this. Around the corner from the kitchen, We follow Mr. Honeybee down the hallway and into the office. That's where we find Harold snuggled up in his big, Cozy bed. He didn't hear us come in because he's still fast asleep. This is where he sleeps while Mr. Honeybee works on the computer. He looks so peaceful sleeping there until suddenly, Without waking up, His ears twitch, His paws move as if he's running on air, And he sleep barks without moving his mouth. Harold is dreaming watching him. We huddle in close so we don't wake him up with our voices. I've been in here researching robots all afternoon. By the way, I think I know just how to build one. But, Anyways, I keep hearing this noise and I look down and Harold is running and barking in his sleep. I've never seen him do that before. Look at the way his paws are stretched out like that. It looks like he's flying. Oh my gosh, It does look like he's flying. I wonder where he's flying to and what he's dreaming about. That's exactly what I was thinking so I looked it up. I wasn't sure if dogs can even have dreams, But they do. Dogs dream about what they know. Dog stuff. He's probably dreaming about the dog part. He loves it there. But he doesn't usually fly at the dog part. Does he even know what flying is? I mean, I fly, But he's never tried to. Well, That one time he did, But woof, He didn't fly? Yeah, It's a long story. Ah, There he goes again. I wish we could know what he's dreaming about. It looks like a fun dream. You and Melody B both look down to the fluffy white dandelions in your hands at the exact time. Then you look at each other and smile knowing that wishes do indeed come true, Especially when you have plenty of dandelions that are fluffed and ready. You hold your dandelion up, Twisting it around and around as if to say, Not only can we wish to know what Harold is dreaming about, But we can also wish for it ourselves. We can wish for that? Mr. Honeybee, We can wish for anything. Look how fluffy these are. They're just waiting for a wish. We look over to Harold who is still sound asleep. We each take out our dandelions and hold them out together. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose and wish to be in Harold's dream. Then, Slowly breathe out through your mouth and blow lightly on the dandelions. White seed fluff flies all around and surrounds us like the softest, Puffiest clouds. You feel yourself within this cloud. We can feel our bellies drop like we're on a roller coaster. We're not in the office anymore. You land gently on new ground. It's so soft beneath your feet that you think it's grass. You look down to see that the ground is actually bright yellow feathers. You've never seen grass like this before, But now it's all you see. We are standing in an endless field of it. You reach down to scoop up a cloud of softness, But it blows away before you can stand back up. Out of the side of your eye, You see Mr. Honeybee take a slow step forward. You turn to follow close behind him. Instead of your footsteps sinking into the soft grass like they usually do, You feel buoyant as if you can float. Without trying and before you can even realize what you're doing, You glide all the way across the field of feathery yellow. Trees suddenly appear off in the distance where there weren't any before. Gliding on the air, You take a quick turn toward them. The closer you get, The bigger the trees become. Until they are gargantuan. You and Mr. Honeybee make a game out of winding back and forth through their gigantic trunks. You grab hold of one to stop gliding and lean your back against the trunk to catch your breath. Leaning your head back against the sturdy tree trunk, You realize that this tree you've ever seen before. The leaves have changed colors and they fill the tree top overhead. You look through them up to the magnificent blue sky. The sky seems more or less normal and that reassures you. You take a moment to enjoy the breeze and the sunshine you love so much. You point out a little flock of blackbirds that we watch fly overhead. Along with their chirping, We also hear a familiar but oddly placed clicking sound. Are the birds clicking? I think it might be the sky. We join you by the tree to take cover from the strangely clicking sky. Mr. Honey Bee holds his hand out flat against the trunk. He slowly pushes against it and his hand disappears into the tree. He quickly pulls his hand back and hugs it into himself. You decide to try it too. Looking at the tree, It doesn't seem like a dream tree. It seems real. But when you test it out with your own hand, It disappears just like Mr. Honey Bee's did. You decide to test it further. You take a couple steps back then run as fast as you can toward the tree trunk. It evaporates as soon as you touch the bark and you're able to jump right through like it was a cloud. You emerge from the other side victorious with your arms up and circle back around just in time for Melody Bee to find something peculiar. Investigating the bushes just behind the trees, She plucks a few leaves off and holds them up. That's when you realize the bushes are all different shades of blue. Melody Bee turns around and says, Wait! She buzzes all around the bright blue bushes looking for something. When she sees it, She carefully rummages through the leaves before reaching down to grab a handful of sticks. These are Harold's favorite fetching sticks. He hides them in these thorny bushes so no one takes them while he's gone. We're at the dog park but it's so colorful. We must be in Harold's dream. I knew he was dreaming about the dog park. So Harold dreams of the dog park in bright colors? Oh! I think I know what's going on. He doesn't just dream in these colors. He sees in them. Dogs can only dream about what they know, Remember? And Harold cannot see the colors green or red. No dogs can. So we must be seeing the dog park as he sees it. Whoa! That must be why the trees are so big. Huh? The trees look smaller to me. Oh, Oh, I get it. Harold is bigger than me so the trees were going to look smaller. Oh, Okay. This just keeps getting stranger. Just then, Another flock of birds fly back in the opposite direction this time. They click and squawk as they fly overhead. A few of them swoop down towards us to land on the branch right above you. They settle into their spot in the tree and click back and forth to each other while we watch, Puzzled. Then, They look down at us wondering what we're so confused about. Mr. Honeybee, In all of your research about dog dreams, Did you read anything about clicking birds? I honestly don't know how I missed that. If we're in Harold's dream and seeing things as he sees them, Then we're also hearing them as he hears them. That clicking sound is Mr. Honeybee typing on the computer in the office. Harold's incorporating the sounds around him into his dream just like humans sometimes do. No way! Whoa! The clicking birds fly off into the sky and we slowly fan out into the feathery yellow field to take in the full view. The world, According to Harold, Is bright, Peaceful, And curious. We get a glimpse of his closer-to-the-ground perspective which makes the big world seem even bigger. There's so much to explore and nothing is as you expect it to be. But something is missing. Look all the way to one side and then all the way to the other. There isn't a single dog at this dog park. Maybe Harold dreams of having the whole park all to himself. We continue walking through the field to see what else appears out of thin air. Walking through the tall grass, Mr. Honeybee wonders, Wait a minute! If this is Harold's dream, Shouldn't he be here? We shade our eyes from the bright sun and look all around. All you can see is the field, The trees and bushes, And more birds flying through the sky. You look over your shoulder because something catches your attention out of the side of your eye. You spin around just as something whooshes by. It went so fast that you couldn't quite tell what it was. We look up into the sky for it to come back and suddenly, Coming from the other direction, We see the shadow of floppy ears that we recognize. It's not a bird, It's not a plane, It's Harold and he can fly! Harold swoops back down around us skimming the tall feathery grass with his paws. He then shows off flying around you in circles before soaring back up into the clear blue sky. He flies in zigzag patterns like a plane and even does flips in the air to fly upside down. We all cheer as he heads back down to the ground. When Harold lands, He's so excited to see you. His tail wags with enough excitement to wiggle his whole body. He knew you were visiting today but time was moving so slowly while he was waiting. He would look out the back door watching the gate carefully waiting for you to open it. Harold took a few too many naps trying to make time go by quicker and accidentally fell into a deep sleep. At least he didn't miss your visit entirely. Harold parades us around his dream proud to show us his world. We follow along wondering what we'll see next The birds have stopped clicking and instead are filling the warm air with chirps and songs. Grasshoppers are hopping. The butterflies are fluttering around bright blue flower. The sun shines down as you take big steps through the tall grass that gently blows against your legs. Take a slow deep breath in through your nose. Feel your chest and your spirits lift. Then slowly breathe out through your mouth. You feel so relaxed and peaceful here. A butterfly with soft white wings flutters up to you so you slowly put your hand out to meet it. The butterfly lands on your hand and sits with you as you walk to the other side of the dog park where the line of trees stand along the river. A grasshopper challenges you and Harold to a hop race. The butterfly flutters away and you take off hopping as fast as you can. It's a three-way tie when you all pass the trees but the grasshopper gets up ahead with one last hop right onto a lily pad that's floating down the river. You and Harold come to an abrupt stop at the water's edge with a little splash. There's something else he wants to show us. He trots up to an old gnarled tree with roots that stick out above the soil. Its branches twist and turn so much there's one thick branch that trails almost all the way down to the ground. Harold jumps up onto it and looks back at us to follow. You're able to hop up onto the branch with both feet. Mr. Honeybee is right behind you. Harold walks along the branch and climbs up the rest of the way until he disappears into the treetop. Melody Bee flutters up ahead to make sure we don't lose track of him in the infinite dream world. Can you give me a hand up, My little Honeybee? You and Mr. Honeybee reach out your hands and together we climb the old gigantic tree. Right hand, Left hand, Right foot, Left foot. The leaves rustle as we climb higher and higher. Still a little ways ahead a few feet higher up in the tree, Melody Bee gasps. Is everything okay up there, Melody Bee? You have to see this. Hurry, Come up, Come up. We rush to climb the rest of the way and stop when we get to one of the tallest branches. From here we can see a full view of the Honey River that runs throughout the whole Honeybee neighborhood and the majestic mountains. We carefully walk sideways along the branch balancing with each step. Right foot, Left foot, Right foot, Left foot. Harold is sitting at the end of the branch waiting for us to file in. Beside him there's a very friendly sparrow who waves a little brown wing to say hello. Melody Bee points across the river to the other trees in the forest. That's when you see them. All the dogs aren't fetching in Harold's dream dog park. They're flying. One by one you see all the pups that usually fill the dog park leaping from the tall trees and soaring through the air right along with the birds. The sparrow next to us nudges Harold with her beak. She's been helping Harold practice climbing trees and even flying. The sparrow politely nudges Harold again and again pushing him closer to the edge of the branch. He lets out a confident bark and leaps into the air at the same time as a dalmatian on the other side of the river. That's exactly what Harold did the last time he tried to fly. From the back of the couch though. He didn't get too far that time. Luckily I was able to get a pillow down there to catch him. Actually, I guess that story wasn't so long after all. Anyways, He's gotten a lot better. Look at him. He must have been watching the birds take off from the branches. This is his favorite tree at the dog park. We sometimes just sit and watch the birds. I didn't realize he was studying them. With all four of their paws outstretched Harold and the dalmatian glide through the air and meet each other over the river. They fly upstream together toward the mountains until they turn into little dots in the distance. We are shocked and wonder to ourselves if we can fly in this dreamland too. Harold comes back from his flight with his poodle friend and quickly gets distracted by something in the bushes. He charges into the blue bush and frantically flails around in the leaves. We can't really tell what he's doing down there. Is everything okay? Do you need us to come down? Harold finally emerges from the bush with a black frisbee in his mouth. Is that. . . I think it is! That's Harold's lost frisbee. Look, It has his paw print painted on it in white. But usually it's red. Oh, Yeah, That's right. Dogs cannot see red, Or purple, Or orange, Or pink. I'm so happy he found it. He was heartbroken when he lost it that day. He couldn't bring himself to fetch for three days. Aww, He looks so happy. Harold looks up at us begging with his eyes to play fetch. Melody B flutters down to him before she notices we aren't following her. Come on, Everyone. What are you waiting for? Can we fly in Harold's dreams? Just then, The tree branch below your feet begins to rattle. Where there was a sturdy branch now feels like sand. We struggle to maintain our footing. There's no choice but to jump from the tallest tree in the dog park. Holding hands like friends about to cannonball off a cliff, Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose and prepare to jump. As you breathe out through your mouth, Take a leap of faith from the tree. Here goes nothing! Melody B meets us in midair where we are falling in what feels like slow motion. We look like astronauts floating on the moon as we flail in the air. For a split second, We are actually flying. Before, We all land heavy on our feet in what looks like the living room of the Honey Bee House. We stand perfectly still, Crouched in place for a moment to get our bearings and figure out where we've landed now. We stand up tall and continue looking around for clues. Is this another dream? You turn around to see Harold happily sitting behind us. Is that dream Harold or real Harold? We all look together at the same time but cannot decide for sure. This looks like the living room just as we left it. There's our comfy couch. There are Harold's chew toys still out and there are our books stacked on the end table. We begin to move around more and tap our arms, Shoulders, And faces to see if we're real. Harold yawns a big yawn and tilts his head side to side, Curious about what we're doing. Is this real life? I don't know. Try pinching me. My dear, I am not going to pinch you. How else will we know if we're in a dream? I'm sure we can figure it out. Come on, Mr. Honey Bee. Here's my arm. Oh fine, I'll pinch you. Ow! Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry Mrs. Honey Bee. Are you okay? Yes, I'm just fine Melody Bee and I think we're actually back in real life. Harold, You sure gave us quite the adventure, Little guy. Harold gallops over to us, Eager for pets and belly rubs. He's doing what he usually does when he first sees you. He doesn't seem to know that we're actually in his dream with him. Harold pauses and sits up for a moment as if he's forgotten something. Then he scurries off to the kitchen where his leash hangs on a little hook on the wall. He runs back at top speed and slides across the floor to us when he means to stop. With his leash hanging in his mouth, He whimpers to go for a walk until we agree. You click him into his harness and we head out the door. Usually we enjoy peaceful walks around the neighborhood but today Harold seems to be on a mission trying to make us go faster. Harold, Slow down a little bit. You're going to tire yourself out before we even get to the dog park. Your walk turns to a slight jog. You go faster and faster trying to keep up with Harold's pace. Take a slow deep breath in through your nose. Feel the coolness of the fresh air. Then slowly breathe out through your mouth and run with Harold as fast as his little legs can go. Harold's white fluffineers are pushed all the way back. Together we run all the way to the dog park. He can barely stand to wait outside the chain link fence while you open the first gate and then the second. With his leash and harness off, He finally slows down a little. We follow him all the way across the field just like we did in his dream. The grass has returned to its usual color, A brilliant green that glistens with dew drops in the bright sunshine. The trees are back to their regular size and the bushes are no longer blue. Overhead the birds aren't clicking anymore either. It's another crisp beautiful day at the dog park. You stop for a moment to take in the natural beauty around you. Up ahead, Harold charges toward the same old gnarled tree that we saw in his dream. He stops in front of the bushes and holds his snout up high to sniff the air in every direction. With his nose to the ground, He walks along the bushes until he finds the right one and disappears into the leaves. We stand outside of the bushes waiting for him, Trying to peek in through the leaves to see what he's doing. The leaves rustle with commotion before Harold leaps out from the bushes proudly carrying a bright red frisbee. Harold, You found your favorite frisbee and exactly where it was in your dream. Holding his frisbee in his mouth, He tilts his head to the side confused about how we know about his dream. He sits down with his ears perked up as if they are waiting for an explanation. I'll explain later, Harold. This one really is a long story. You grab the frisbee from him and throw it as far as you can across the dog park. It spins and glides through the sky before Harold jumps up and snatches it from the air. He runs back right past us, Smiling the whole way. He again wants us to follow him to the tree, Just like he did in his dream. He hops up onto one of the thick, Low branches that sprawl out from the tree trunk. Harold walks along the branch, Choosing his footsteps carefully to slowly climb the tree. We cannot believe what we're seeing. Mr. Honey Bee pinches himself just to make sure he's not dreaming. Melody Bee leads the way, Fluttering as we follow closely behind her. Right hand, Left hand, Right foot, Left foot. You look back down behind you to see how far up we've gone, And we're higher up than you expected. Harold keeps going with his frisbee, Still in his mouth, Undeterred by the heights. When he gets to the tallest branch that reaches out over the river, He carefully balances until he sits down at the end. When we get up next to him, We can see that, Just like in his dream, He has met his little brown sparrow friend up here. She waves hello as we each carefully sit down on the branch. Our feet swing below us, And we look over the river toward the majestic mountains. The setting sun casts a spectacular pink light against the mountains, And the rushing river sparkles as it catches the last bit of late afternoon sunlight. You wish that Harold could see just how brilliant the pink hue is, But you look over at him and see how happy he looks just to be here. Here, At his favorite place, In his favorite tree, With his favorite people. Little did we know the fun that lives in our tiny friend's dreams, Or that he could climb trees. One question looms in our minds as our feet happily swing up high in the tree. Does Harold climb up here simply to sit with the sparrow? We get our answer before anyone can ask the question out loud. Harold hands his frisbee to his little sparrow friend. She takes it into her beak and takes off into the sky. She glides through the air in circling patterns before dropping the frisbee in a random faraway spot. Harold moves to action, Jumps branch by branch all the way down the tree, And chases after the frisbee. The sparrow returns to her cozy spot on the branch and waits for Harold to climb back up. This is what Harold does at the dog park for so long some days. He's found friends to throw the frisbee for him when our arms get tired. Like we always say in the honeybee neighborhood, You can never have too many friends. Sometimes it's the little ones in high places that can teach you to soar. In your very own special way. Always remember that Mrs. Honeybee believes in you. You are special and you are loved. I can't wait to see you again. Bedtime with Mrs. Honeybee Today, In the honeybee neighborhood, We'll be surprising our little furry friend Harold with a birthday party and a very special gift. He's going to be so surprised. I didn't spill the beans about the party or the gift. Let's hope Melody Bee didn't either. Buzz, Buzz, Buzz. What we have planned for his birthday party today. Can't wait to see his face when he opens his present. And his little puppy face. Mr. Honeybee, My dear, Did you hide his gift in your garage? Gift? I thought Melody Bee was getting his gift. Me? Honeybee was. Really? I thought Mr. Honeybee was going to pick up the gift today. Before the surprise party. I'll go pick it up now. I'll be back with the gift in no time. Uh, Where do I pick it up? Well, What should we get him? We don't even have an idea of it yet. Oh my goodness. This is not good. The party is today. Don't panic Melody Bee. Harold is our bestest friend in the whole world. We're not going to let him down for his birthday, Are we? No. We've known Harold since he was a puppy. So we'll be able to think up the perfect gift. Of course we will. Hmm. What does he like to do most? What does he do all day? When I leave for my classroom in the morning, He's usually laying in his bed sound asleep. That's where he is when I come back from the garage, After a long day of prototyping. What if we make him the best, Most coziest bed, Full of cutting-edge technology? I can have a backscratcher building, And have a secret compartment for treats. And be really big and fluffy. Wait, Wait, Wait. You two really think that Harold sleeps all day? All of a sudden, I feel like I know a secret. What's the secret? He waits for you two to leave. Then he comes out to the garden for his doggy bag, For the road. Doggy bag? The road? All of a sudden, I think I did something wrong. Whoops. Should have kept it a secret. But yeah. He usually takes some blueberries. Sometimes he takes carrots, Because I make him take carrots, Because they're good for him, And he can't always have fruits. Sometimes. . . So, Where does he go with his garden snacks? Beats me. Oh, Sometimes I sneak Beats in there too. But he has a good nose and sniffs them out. So, Let me get this straight. Harold leaves almost every day? No, It's every day. Okay. Harold leaves every day, And we have no idea where he goes. I figured correctly that you were not tracking Harold properly. As usual, I've done the work for you. Roger Robot to the rescue. He says all the time. Here, This is a report of Harold's exact movements and locations for the last, Uh, What is this? Seven days. Will that work? That should be a good sample. Thank you, Roger Robot. You help us before we even know we need it. Do you keep track of little Harold and make sure he's okay? Anticipating that question, I've installed a heart rate monitor on his GPS collar, And it lets me know if he's ever in any kind of trouble, And exactly where that trouble is, Thanks to the GPS. Oh, You got him on the Global Positioning System. What? No, No, That technology is outdated. Humans. No, No, I have a much better software in this GoPup skedaddle collar. GPS, For short. Look, Look, Right here. Is that little red dot Harold? We can see exactly where he is? Look at all the coordinates of where Harold goes all day. He's a busy pup. He comes back exhausted. That's why he's sleeping when you come in from your garage, Mr. Honeybee. Look at all these places. Oh, I have an idea for what we can give Harold. Stash the report. Stash it. He's coming. Meet me around back to finish getting ready for the party. Our little Honeybee will distract him while we set up the decorations. Hurry, Hurry, Hurry! We've got to make Harold's birthday special. All you have to do is close your eyes, Get cozy, And listen to the sound of my voice. Mrs. Honeybee will be your guide. Let's begin. You are here, Peeking around the side of the porch, Waiting for the signal from me and Mr. Honeybee for when the coast is clear. We're in the backyard setting up streamers, Balloons, Games, And two enormous bouncy houses connected with a funhouse maze for Harold's surprise birthday party. We're going all out for Harold's birthday this year because he's the best pup around. But you already know that because you're one of Harold's favorite people, My little Honeybee. When needed, You're also one of the best distractions whenever we need to keep Harold occupied. Like when we're setting the table for dinner, Or when we accidentally touch his leash and set off alarm bells that only his floppy little ears can hear. So you're in charge of keeping Harold distracted today while Mr. Honeybee, Melody Bee, And I finish decorating. And so far, Out here in the front yard, In the bright sunshine, That's been a very simple task. You look once more around the side of the house, And Mr. Honeybee signals that we're just about done. Harold barks out for you to play with him and rolls over in the grass for belly rubs. That is something you cannot resist, And he knows it. Laying down in the soft grass next to Harold, Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel your chest and your spirits lift, Soaking in the warmth and brightness of this beautiful day. Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and start a game of fetch with Harold. His favorite squeaky toy is right beside you, And you know that a single squeak will send him into a fetching frenzy. Slowly reach out for it so he doesn't see the squeak coming. Brush your hand against the soft green grass until you can feel the plush fur of the toy. Then Harold sits up at attention, Staring directly at the toy in your hands as you sit up. After a couple fake-outs to either side, You throw the toy to the other side of the yard, And Harold takes off. That was an excellent throw! Harold runs under it, Tracking the ball like a football player, Before he leaps into the air and grabs it. He runs back to you in a flash and jumps in your lap while he happily chews his toy. You pet his soft ears, Looking back to the side of the house where you're expecting Mr. Honeybee to come any second. Hello there, My little Honeybee! And Harold! Mrs. Honeybee wanted to tell you something. Uh, No, No, Not you, Boy. Our little Honeybee. It's something about, Uh. . . Oh! Want to play fetch? Go fetch, Boy! Quick, Go around to the backyard. Mrs. Honeybee is expecting you. Atta boy! Bring it back here! You slip away around the porch, Just as Harold fetches his toy, So hopefully Mr. Honeybee can distract him with another throw. As soon as you round the corner, You see streamers and balloons, And a mountain of gifts from all the neighbors. There are mini-pupcakes, All kinds of squeaky toys, And even a patch of fresh dirt where there will be a digging contest. Harold's going to love that. It looks to you that we are already as set up as we can be for a puppy surprise party, But Melody Bee buzzes out through the back door, Worried. When Mr. Honeybee comes back with Roger Robot, They are holding what looks like a video game controller. Except, This isn't just any remote, This is their latest prototype. It's connected to Harold's collar, And its state-of-the-art technology measures how happy Harold is. Tentatively called the Pup Pep-O-Meter, This machinery measures the pep in a pup's step at any given time from any distance. This way, We can make sure that our gifts will make Harold the happiest he's ever been. We can measure Harold's happiness at each point in this special birthday adventure, In which we follow Harold for a typical day that we had no idea he had. An adventure that we're calling a Harold's Nose Nose Adventure, Because a dog's strongest sense is his nose. And today, We're following Harold wherever it leads. You're mesmerized by all the many settings on this newest prototype, And are as eager as Roger Robot to test it out. We tiptoe around the side of the house to get a look at how this works. Holding the Pup Pep-O-Meter in your hands, You aim its little antenna at Harold, Who's running back from fetching his toy. Lots of lights and red numbers flash, As if it's calculating a moving target, Until the number 5 comes up on the screen and stays. That's a 5 out of 10. He's moderately happy playing fetch. I would think he'd be at least an 8 out of 10, But maybe he's a bit tuckered out since we've been distracting him for so long. Oh wait, Look up there. It says, Species unknown. I think it's picking up Melody B's happiness rating, And she's really nervous about not spilling the beans on Harold's surprise party. Not a focus. We're coming, Melody B. Oh, Thank goodness. I can feel the beans sneaking up on me. Melody B is relieved to have us back out in the front yard with her, So she can focus more on not saying anything about the surprise party that we're trying to keep a surprise. Before we head out on our adventure, We need to get a good baseline reading of Harold's happiness with his most favorite activity. A little game we like to call trick and treat. It's simple, But makes Harold so, So happy. You always come prepared with a handful of tasty morsels in your pocket for just this reason. You never know when a game of trick and treat will break out, And you like to come prepared. Holding your hand up, You tell Harold to sit, Focusing on you as if he has lasers in his eyes. He promptly sits and gets a treat. He then shakes, Sits up, And even dances in a full circle, All for treats. Now, When we measure Harold's happiness, It's a 10 out of 10, Which is an extremely happy pup. That is why you are Harold's favorite person, My little honey bee. Harold is thrilled at his first surprise of the day, And doesn't hesitate a moment longer before taking off after the first scent that catches his snout. We all run after him, Surprised by how quickly his four little paws move, But unsurprised by our first stop. And his first stop, Nearly every single day. The Honey Bee Neighborhood Pupple Park, A park for pups and people. According to Roger Robine, Harold has stopped here at the park every day for the last several months, And it appears he has a standing appointment with a very friendly schnauzer who he greets at the gates. Harold happily introduces us as his bestest friends to each of the pups at the park. Once they've greeted each other, They all immediately sprint to the most important place at any park made for dogs, The Fire Hydrant Funhouse. At the Pupple Park, There's a large area that is dedicated to, You guessed it, Fire hydrants, A dog's favorite pastime. Each of the dogs leisurely sniff around and around the yellow hydrant, As if they're picking up the latest scoop. Because, Actually, They are. Harold's cycling through tons of emotions. His happiness is up high, Then way down low, Then high again. I've been looking into this phenomenon. It puzzled me at first, But if you watch closely, You might recognize what's happening. He follows along after every single pup that visits this park. Each pup comes here first thing, As soon as they get here, And don't leave without visiting the funhouse. Fire hydrants are how dogs talk to each other. It's the WWW. . . The World Wide Web? No, Melody Bee, Don't be silly. It's the World Wide Woof, The internet for pups. Oh, So they post things about their days and how they're feeling? Exactly. He's sniffing out the latest scoop. He's getting a pup date. Oh, Mrs. Honeybee, I know what I can get him. I can give him his very own fire hydrant. He can be a doggie blocker. I'll buzz over to the fire department right down the street and get him one, Pronto. While Harold and his friends continue to sniff and ride a rollercoaster of emotions sniffing the pup equivalent of the evening news, Melody Bee proudly returns and presents a shining, Brand-new, Bright-as-the-sun yellow fire hydrant to Harold. He and all his friends look on curiously. When she sets it down, They circle it from a cautious distance. Harold bravely steps forward to sniff it briefly, Then sits back down in front of it and tilts his head to the side. Wow! Is it a high score? Does he love my present? The pup pepometer isn't registering anything at all. What? Really? Melody Bee, Of course he doesn't love it yet. He hasn't posted anything. This hydrant is a blank page waiting to be filled. I'm sure he'll love it once there are more posts to read. I guess that's true. Oh, And maybe we can put this one out in front of the house, By the sidewalk, Next to the Little Free Honey Bee Library, So all the dogs can post as they walk by, Even some cats. Okay, Okay. Just dogs allowed. Noted. Harold, We're going to put this up in the front yard, So you and all your friends can post right out front. Don't you love this new hydrant? Melody Bee got you, Boy. Aw, See? Now it's registering a 5 out of 10, Because it's the thought that counts. Well, If we're counting, Isn't that an F? Mrs. Honey Bee, When you're grading, Isn't that an F? That's not the way to think about this, Melody Bee. Your gift will just keep getting better and better with time. Come on, It looks like the pups are sniffing after something else. Together, After their fire hydrant funhouse, The dogs at the park love to do something else. Something somewhat unexpected. They love to climb trees. They lead us to an old gnarled tree that leads out to the Honey River. The tree trunk is growing crookedly and juts out over the river, Hovering just above the rushing water below. Harold jumps up and we follow along. He and his friends each jump up to a different horizontal branch and walk all the way to the end. Then they sit and watch. Curiously, We follow them, Walking step by step, Balancing on our own tree trunks that are almost perfectly sideways. Walk carefully behind Harold with your arms out to the side and your head up tall. Keep your chin up high. Looking down will only make you wobble. Keeping your ears as far away from your shoulders as comfortably possible, Walk careful steps out over the Honey River. Right foot, Left foot, Right foot, Left foot. When you get out to where Harold is still watching, As if waiting for something, Roger Robot does a quick scan. His happiness is even lower than before. It's at a four. He must be focusing on something intently. Before we can wonder too long what they're watching for, We see Harold leap from the tree into the river, Just as a gigantic leatherback turtle floats underneath the branch. We quickly look downriver, Where Harold waves a paw at us from the back of the biggest turtle you've ever seen. And when you look back, There's an entire bale of more turtles heading our way. We have to move quickly. On the count of three, We follow Harold and each jump down to the back of our own leatherback turtle, Who are happy to have us on their afternoon commute down the Honey River. Leatherback turtles are the world's largest. This one you're on is more than five feet long. Is that almost as tall as you, My little honeybee? These turtles make their way down the river until they reach the ocean. And they do this every day, So Harold must hitch a ride like this often. Roger, What's Harold's pep at now? He looks really happy. Look at that smile. I'd say that's another ten out of ten. From what I can tell, He's at a seven. A seven? Really? Wow. So far, He was the happiest playing trick and treat. That's going to be a difficult happiness to beat. That's his favorite game, And you're his favorite person, My little honeybee. Here, On the back of the turtle, Basking in the sunshine, Take another slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the cool air coming in through your nose, Filling your lungs, And expanding your belly out. Take another little sip of air at the top of your breath. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth. Harold stands up with his tail wagging to signal that our stop is coming up next. In a single file line, The turtles all wash up on the riverbank and deposit us onto the glittering shore. Harold barks his goodbyes to his turtle taxis and proceeds to sniff the ground, Hot on the trail of our next stop. We follow along curiously, Looking around to where we were deposited, Out on the edge of the honeybee neighborhood. When we round the last corner, We come up to a chain-link fence that Harold jumps two paws up against. That appears to be a signal. Maybe Harold needs our help opening the latch on the gate. Before you can reach out to open the latch, It lifts all on its own. You step back, Confused. How did it do that? Even more confusing, Harold's paws are now able to push the gate right open. Behind the fence stands a wall of junk. That's when you can see the sign on the back of the gate. This is the honeybee neighborhood junkyard, Or, To Harold, A treasure trove of wonderment. And standing in front of all this junk is the proud owner, A big, Slobbery junkyard dog who is overjoyed to see his friend and us, His new friends. Through Harold's eyes, We see what he and his other pups sees, An enormous mound of possibility. Possibility that he's already made something from. Harold leads us around the mound to his little corner of the world, Where he stashes his favorite finds. Looking at all the magnificent, Rusted stuff, We lose track of Harold for a moment, But find all sorts of fun. Mr. Honeybee's eyes lock in on a gleaming something that catches the sunlight and his attention. When he tries to pull that one thing out, An avalanche of junk almost topples over him. Look at this, Everyone. What is it? Besides a tetanus risk? Oh, Good point. It's quite dirty. All we have to do is wipe it off a bit. Ta-da! This, This is a cinematograph. I recognize part of that word, Cinema. Is this an old movie projector? Yes, Exactly, My dear. See this gear right here? You put the film in here, And then, When it's working, This will spin like this. Single pictures are printed on the film in a negative, So when a light shines through, It projects the pictures wherever the light is pointing. When you turn it on, The pictures move. That's why we call them movies, Short for moving pictures. Oh, That's why when we go to the movies and sit all the way in the back center of the theater, There's always someone up there behind the window. Yep, They're playing a digital version of this same technology. We can set this up in the backyard for movie nights around the bonfire. Oh, That sounds fun. One ticket to the cinematograph, Please. Oh, It looks like Harold's found his fun little find. What do you have, Boy? He's driving a remote-controlled car with a wheel that looks just like mine. Mr. Honeybee, Am I part of a remote-controlled car? Look at my wheel. You said I was part rocket. Uh, Yeah, You are part remote-controlled car. It was the only wheel I had on hand. But your other parts are all similar to the parts NASA uses, Like your propellers. I bet you're faster than that car. Roger that, Mr. Honeybee. Three, Two, One. Harold, This race is on. It's a good thing Roger Robot is keeping Harold busy, Because I know the perfect gift for him. I'll make him a brand new, New to him, Remote-controlled car for him to drive. I see everything I need right here. Measure his happiness on that one so I can compare it. I'll have this one done in a jiff. You aim the pup-pepometer at Harold, But keep accidentally getting Roger, Who is chasing Harold in the remote-controlled car, And not too thrilled to know he's made up of more RC parts than rocket parts. Following them around and around a makeshift track until Harold gets the lead over Roger. Take another slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Clear your mind of everything except your focus on following Harold's snow-white fluff, Sitting in his old, Beat-up remote-controlled car made of junkyard parts. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth, And get an accurate reading of Harold's happiness, Just as he makes eye contact with you. Wow, It says ten again. And look, Harold's about to jump over us, Little honeybee. You win, Little guy. You win. Mr. Honeybee, I need to upgrade my wheels. Get NASA on the phone ASAP. What'd you say, Roger? We need to call NASA when we get home. Again? Okay, Will do. Look. Look what I was able to make from scraps I found lying around. It has a remote and everything. Harold's gonna love it, Mr. Honeybee. Here he comes. Harold, Look. Mr. Honeybee made you something for your birthday. Happy birthday, Boy. It looks like his happiness is a six. What was that, Boy? The other car has what baked in? Oh, I understand. Mr. Honeybee, His remote-controlled car, The old one, Might be a bit beat up, But it has all his memories baked into it, And he likes that the best. Oh, I guess that makes sense. We can ride around the neighborhood in this new one, Though. Anna can carry his new fire hydrant home. We're kind of striking out on figuring out what to get Harold for his birthday. His friends are probably already at the house. The party's gonna start soon, And we still have nothing. Or maybe we're looking at this adventure all wrong. I know just what Harold would love the most. Come on, Harold, Follow me for the best birthday present ever. We get back home just in time for the cake to be delivered, But with one crucial difference in the order. This cake will contain the best birthday present we could ever give Harold. One that he'll love most certainly, And will have his pep soaring. All of his friends are gathered in the backyard, Waiting for the big surprise. Mr. Honeybee asks Harold to drive his new remote-controlled car up into his garage and set up his new fire hydrant by the mailbox in the front yard. Then meet us back in the backyard. This will be enough of a diversion for us. While Harold is occupied, The multi-tier cake is delivered on wheels that Roger inspects. The baker smiles pleasantly and opens a compartment in the back of the cake for each of us to step inside. You, Me, Mr. Honeybee, Melody Bee, And Roger Robot. The baker rolls us on the cake into the backyard and parks us right under the balloons. Now we wait. While we wait inside the cake, We each take off our shoes, Remove one of our socks, And hold them in our hands. Even Roger Robot has a sock to put over his wheel when it gets cold out. With our socks in our hands, We're ready and waiting. But we don't have to wait that long until Harold comes running around the side of the house to hear. . . At first, Harold is overwhelmed with surprise. He sees all the streamers and the balloons and his birthday banner, But something is missing. Five very important somethings. That's our cue, Little Honeybee. Take another slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the sensation of your heart beating once, Twice, Three times, Full of love for Harold. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and burst out of the cake. Harold is overjoyed to see us and dances circles around us covered in his favorite flavor cake. I realized on our adventure, My little Honeybee, That nothing makes Harold happier than when he's with us, His best friends, And especially you. He loves when you come to visit. That's why the best gift we can give to our best friends is ourselves. Quality time and undivided attention with all of us. But also, For Harold in particular, Socks are a wonderful gift idea. As strange a gift as socks, Directly from our feet, Seems to us humans. For dogs, They're precious because they hold your scent, And our pups love our scents. And furthermore, As we now know from such a fun-filled birthday adventure, Harold's nose knows best. And Harold's nose is laser-focused on the socks in our hands. We all dangle them overhead and he's mesmerized by the lovely scent of all of his friends. Then, We throw them into the grass and he takes off, Fetching one after another until his tiny snout is stuffed with socks. Without stopping or offering to give them back to our one sockless foot, He buries the socks in his many hiding places as a treasure, Storing them away for when he misses us most. When he's running back toward us, You once again aim the pup-pipometer at our furry little friend to see how happy he is. Harold's happiness is at 15! I thought it only went up to 10. His happiness is off the charts. We got him the best gift we could ever get him. Quality time with those who love him most. Wow, He must really love us. And our socks. And cake. Always remember, Mrs. Honeybee believes in you. You are special and you are loved. I can't wait to see you again. I love you.

Reviews

loved it ! I fell asleep super duper fast and usually it takes me atleast 45 mins to 1 hour to fall asleep with any other story ! 😆