Dying My Hair Pink (Bedtime Story)

A beet-juice explosion turns the Honeybee Neighborhood into a pink wonderland, including Mrs. Honeybee's hair—and possibly Harold’s fur! While cleaning up the mess, we discover that beet smoothies are no match for our new love of impromptu hair dye. So naturally, we all lean in and dye our hair pink, because when life gives you beets, you make fashion statements! - Love, Mrs. Honeybee

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

Transcript

Bedtime with Mrs.

Honeybee.

Today,

In the Honeybee neighborhood,

We will be harvesting the beets Melody Bee planted in her garden.

I'm excited to see all the ways we can use beets with Melody Bee.

And I have a few ideas myself.

What's that tapping sound I hear,

Melody Bee?

Not Melody Bee.

It's me.

It's beet,

Beet,

Beet day.

Yeah!

Buzz,

Buzz,

Buzz.

Mrs.

Honeybee,

He's dancing to the beat of his own drum.

And his drums are his feet.

You always do your own thing,

Mr.

Honeybee.

What a perfect celebration of beet day.

That's it.

Why follow other people's beets when you can make and grow your own?

Speaking of doing my own thing,

Just wait until you see what I created for this momentous day.

Today is harvest day.

Well,

Beet harvest day.

We have golden beets,

White beets,

Purple beets,

And lots and lots of red ones.

We even have candy-striped beets,

Though mostly good old-fashioned bright red ones.

Mr.

Honeybee,

That's a great beet you got there.

But today is red beets from the garden,

Not beet day,

As in tapping to the beet.

Although,

Maybe we can move to the beet while we harvest the beets.

Whoa!

We just have to be extra careful while we're tapping to the beet of our own drum feet while we're handling the beets.

These are really juicy.

Oh goodness,

The red beets stain everything the juice touches pink.

Oh no!

Has everything in the kitchen turned pink?

Where's Harold?

Uh-oh.

Do we have a pink dog now?

Hmm.

I'm not sure,

But what we do know is that the unexpected turned pink,

And so did we.

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 when you notice the pink glow in the sky.

Mr.

Honeybee welcomes you in,

But again you notice that he has a blushing pink glow that you haven't seen before.

Why does everything look pink today?

You wonder to yourself if Mrs.

Honeybee will notice the pinkness in the air today too.

Then you start to wonder,

Where is Mrs.

Honeybee?

As always,

Harold is the first to run out and greet you with his slobbery kisses.

You think to yourself that there's something different about Harold.

Is it his bark?

His tail?

As you approach the kitchen,

Your senses are heightened,

Especially your sense of smell.

You smell something that's earthy and familiar,

But you can't quite put your finger on it.

Take a slow,

Deep breath in through your nose.

Feel the cool air coming in through your nose and dig into the earthy smell as if with your hands into the soft earth and quiet yourself inside and out.

Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and walk a few steps more to the kitchen with Harold.

Can you hold the door open,

My little Honeybee?

I need to bring this basket to the kitchen.

Hello,

My little Honeybee.

I'm so glad you're here.

As Mr.

Honeybee carries the basket of what looks to be musical instruments and packs of rubber gloves into the kitchen,

You get another whiff of that familiar smell.

The earthy smell reminds you of vegetables.

Is it broccoli?

Squash?

Eggplant?

As you walk further into the kitchen,

Mr.

Honeybee hands you a pair of rubber gloves and explains that we all have to wear the gloves to protect our hands.

Unsure what he means,

You put a glove on your right hand and then your left hand,

Slipping each finger into its own place.

Looking around,

All you can see is one type of red vegetable.

It's a round bulb with a leafy top that has grown all over the world.

There are dozens of them,

But wait,

They look like beats,

But they also look like instruments.

Mr.

Honeybee is excited to show us the musical instruments he made out of the harvest in Melody Bee's garden.

You notice a workstation with knives and drills and a first aid kit.

Mr.

Honeybee has been busy creating ways we can make beats out of beats.

We're about to make music with the beats from Melody Bee's garden.

I see you have your rubber gloves on.

That's a good thing because these beats have a way of turning ordinary things into all shades of pink.

The beet juice can stain your skin or any other porous surfaces,

So we have to be very careful.

Very careful.

And for me,

That'll be even more difficult because I cannot see the color red or pink.

It just looks like black to my honeybee eyes.

So please let me know if I'm covered in beet juice because I already look half yellow and half black.

I won't be able to tell if I'm wearing red.

They're so juicy.

Together,

We are about to create music with these homemade fruit instruments.

I choose beat drums,

Melody Bee is playing a beat guitar,

And Mr.

Honeybee is rattling two beats in a bottle for tambeaterines.

As you peruse the available instruments,

Take another slow,

Deep breath in through your nose.

Feel your chest and your spirits lift as the earthy smell of nature fills your lungs with fresh air.

Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth.

What instrument would you like to play,

My little honeybee?

Beet maracas,

A beet trumpet,

Or the beet horns?

Once you choose your instrument,

The band of musicians is about to begin.

Just as we attempt to harness music from the beet instruments,

Melody Bee has an idea she wants to share.

In order to fully embrace harvesting beets,

I decided to change my name.

Since we will basically be rock stars in our band,

This will be my rock star name.

I want you to call me Melody Beet instead of Melody Bee.

I like your new nickname,

Melody Beets.

Well,

If Melody Bee has a new nickname,

I want one too.

So for today,

You can call me Mr.

Honey B-B-Beet.

Feeling a tinge left out,

Mrs.

Honey Bee considers changing her name and then pauses.

I would like to be called Mrs.

Honey Feet because my feet are dancing to the beat of my own beets.

Oh,

I love that for you,

Mrs.

Honey Feet.

Wait,

I want to change mine.

I'm going to go with Mr.

Honey Heat because all these dance moves are bringing the heat.

And I'm sweating a little bit.

Hmm,

Well,

Now I kind of want a more specific nickname.

I'm an extremely organized bee,

So why don't you call me Melody Neat?

As we continue chuckling over the silly nicknames,

The beet concert begins.

The concert continues as the vegetables turned instruments coax Melodies out of the beets.

As the concert comes to an end,

Melody Bee is getting more and more excited to make beet smoothies and beet soup.

I never knew we could make such beautiful music from veggies in my garden.

All this creativity is making me hungry,

Though.

Good thing lunch is ready-made on the other side of these instruments.

We carefully place our beet instruments into a huge pot of water,

But we keep our rubber gloves on because we don't want to stain our hands or anything else in the kitchen.

The beet juice will stain everything it touches.

So that was my contribution to using the beets you harvested.

What's next,

Melody Bee?

I mean,

Melody Beet.

Or is it Melody Neat?

Actually,

On second thought,

I really do love my name Melody Bee.

I love the way it sounds when my favorite honeybee says it.

I love the way it looks written on my birthday cake.

I love to whisper it when I'm in the garden.

Melody,

Melody Bee.

And it fits you perfectly.

Ever since I can remember,

You have always loved your name.

Melody Bee is melodious by its very nature.

It has a sweet sound to it.

Okay,

Melody Bee,

What's next?

You know from all your time visiting us here,

That we just have to do something delicious with this fresh bear from the garden.

I open the upper cabinet and Melody Bee buzzes up to grab a little old wooden box that's been handed down for generations.

She hands it to you to open.

Inside,

You find hundreds of scraps of mismatched paper with all different styles of writing on it.

These are recipes from my mom,

My mom's mom,

My mom's mom's mom,

And more moms than that.

Even some of my own,

As well as Melody Bee's recipes.

It's a treasure trove that we need to search to find what fun to do next with these beets.

They can be boiled,

Baked,

Steamed,

Fried,

Grilled,

Or eaten raw.

We decide to make all kinds of treats from beets,

But the one Melody Bee's most excited about is the beet smoothie we're going to make using her new juicer.

Yay!

I finally get to use the new juicer I got for my birthday!

Together,

We each take turns juicing one of the fruits or veggies and tossing the juice into the blender.

We make a big batch of beet juice,

But can't figure out how to get the beet pulp out of the juicer so they can add the beet juice to make smoothies.

Melody Bee wonders out loud.

Mrs.

Honey Bee,

Do you have anything in these cabinets that can remove the pulp but that you don't mind if it's stained pink?

Mr.

Honey Bee,

Can you read my mind?

Is that what I think it is?

Would that possibly be a beet pulp extractor?

It sure is!

In just a few minutes,

This machine will take out the pulp so we can put the juice in to make our very own beet smoothies.

With slow movements and detailed execution so that nothing in the kitchen gets beet juice on it,

Mr.

Honey Bee slowly and carefully extracts the pulp As Melody Bee,

You and I stir the big pot of beet juice on the table.

Wow!

That's a lot of beet juice!

We can make smoothies for everyone in the neighborhood with this!

That's a wonderful idea!

We just have to work slowly and carefully to keep the kitchen and all of us unpink.

While Melody Bee and I continue stirring the big pot of beet juice on the table,

You check on the other pot that is cooling on the counter.

Mr.

Honey Bee is carefully working on his new contraption and Harold is monitoring our feet and the floor,

Carefully inspecting his field of vision to make sure not a single drop nor morsel of deliciousness is not slurped up following the five-second rule.

Take another slow,

Deep breath in through your nose.

Feel the cool air coming in through your nose and filling up your lungs and focus your mind on the sensation of your heart beating once,

Twice,

Three times like the beat of your very own drum.

Then,

Slowly breathe out through your mouth and blow on this bowl to cool it down a bit.

When you do,

You hear some ruckus in the backyard.

What is Harold barking at?

Is he chasing something?

We decide to check it out just to be safe.

Harold has been known to devise digging games that tunnel his way out of the backyard directly to the dog park.

When Melody Bee opens the door,

We see Harold playing with his friend from the dog park who has surprised Harold with a visit.

But this is not their usual game of tail chasing.

This is a high-intensity,

High-stakes,

No-holds-barred game of hide-and-seek.

And we've just walked in on the very vigorous seeking part.

When the door to the kitchen opens,

Harold sees an opportunity to run and hide under the kitchen table,

The one with the big pot of beet juice on it.

Watch out,

My dear!

Oh,

My goodness!

Harold,

Be careful of the beet juice!

Harold turned to look at our Yelps instead of where he was going and crash-landed into the table.

The pot of beet juice bounced like a ball off the table and then off the ceiling before splattering all over the kitchen and landing empty on the tile floor.

Without realizing you've done so,

Your hands are up over your eyes to shield from the onslaught of beet juice.

Though,

To your surprise,

You are still your same color,

Not stained bright pink.

As you slowly uncover your eyes,

You assure Melody Bee that she's not pink or red.

Harold looks okay,

Too,

And so does Mr.

Honeybee.

Only one person seems to have been in the path of all that beet juice.

Mrs.

Honeybee!

Oh,

No!

It happened!

The unthinkable!

Or should I say,

The un-pink-able!

You're all wet!

It's as if it's been raining beet juice!

I guess I should have had my umbrella ready.

Oh,

Dear.

You must have a contraption that can remove the pink stains on the floor and counter.

Maybe some wet salt and lemon juice?

Oh,

I got some lemons in the garden.

I'll be right back.

As you all prepare the wet salt and lemon juice,

Mr.

Honeybee and Melody Bee begin the cleanup while I take a shower to rinse off the sticky beet juice.

You lend your incredibly helpful hands to the necessary scrubbing and scouring for the kitchen to return to its original,

Not-pink hue.

Even Harold attempts to help as much as he can without his thumb prototypes on.

Wiping counters,

The sink and the stove,

Using your rubber gloves to protect your skin from the possibility of staining anything else pink.

With one pot gone,

You're thankful that the pot of beet juice on the counter can be used for the smoothies they seem to have started so long ago.

While you all wait for Mrs.

Honeybee to return,

You prepare the beet juice by putting some of it carefully into the juicer just as Mrs.

Honeybee saunters back into the kitchen with a curious smile.

You cleaned up the kitchen.

It looks brand new.

Mrs.

Honeybee,

You forgot to take your towel off your head.

Oh,

I didn't forget,

Melody Bee.

My head is a little cold.

Here,

I'll get you a hat from the closet.

That should help keep your head warm.

This towel is just fine,

My dear.

Really?

If your hair is wet,

It might be worth making your head cold.

But,

Okay.

With almost everyone's smoothie prepared,

Harold is in his bed in the other room,

Sulking at the mess he made in the kitchen.

He finally joins us with his head down and his tail between his legs.

Slowly,

Very slowly,

He lifts his head.

Come here,

Boy.

No need to be upset.

It was an accident.

When Harold sees Mrs.

Honeybee with a white towel on her head,

He starts barking and barking.

He's confused.

It doesn't look like Mrs.

Honeybee.

What is it,

Harold?

That's Mrs.

Honeybee,

Your favorite person in the whole world besides little Honeybee here.

Why are you growling?

Maybe it's the towel on your head,

Dear.

He doesn't trust it.

Give it to me.

I'm going to throw in some laundry.

Mrs.

Honeybee,

I think the only way to make Harold stop barking is to take that towel off your head.

Is there something wrong?

You never ever wear towels like that.

With a sheepish grin and a look of embarrassment,

I very,

Very slowly remove the towel to everyone's dismay.

Something looks different,

My dear.

Your hair!

It's.

.

.

You'll love it!

Harold finally stops barking and runs up for the kisses he's used to.

Together,

We continue the process of baking the beet smoothies.

While laughing and chuckling at all the events of the day,

Melody Bee has an idea.

A think-pink idea.

I have an idea.

Let's not make smoothies.

Well,

We gotta use this beet juice for something.

I can't think of anything else we can make with this beet juice.

What's Harold's idea?

I'm kind of getting a pink glow feeling.

I'm kind of feeling the same.

What shall we do?

With not much further conversation,

A bit of excitement at trying something new,

And a lot of support for Mrs.

Honeybee's new do,

We all decide to use the pot of beet juice to dye everyone's hair pink.

First Melody Bee,

Then Mr.

Honeybee puts the beet juice in his hair,

And now it's your turn.

You,

Too,

Want to support Mrs.

Honeybee,

And you know it's just temporary,

So you decide to dye your hair pink,

Too,

Before picking up Harold and putting him in the bath of beet juice.

Always remember,

Mrs.

Honeybee believes in you.

You are special,

And you are loved.

I can't wait to see you again.

Reviews

This one was so good. Can you please make a gorilla tag one?

Great story!
I want to make a story for you now!

The Beginning
Chapter one:
SilverClan

As I swiftly opened my small eyes and got used to the world around me, I heard voices. Loud deep voices. They did not sound friendly. Then I heard a soft weak voice. It was my mother getting hurt. I don't know who this other cat was but my small paws were freezing in the cold snow. I mewed softly as I felt the warmth of my siblings around me. I had zero clue where I was or who I was with but I was glad to not be alone. I was only one moon old and didn't know much stuff but I knew I was a small kit. I looked up at my mother and saw her silver fur and her weak stomach. I saw a big shadow of another cat that seemed hostile and dangerous. I was not happy with this cat and sneezed in the cold leaf-bare snow. When the tall shadow of the cat left my mother, she turned to face us and I saw her wet blue eyes glimering in the moonlight of the night. I saw the tears as they ran down her face. I saw the bones as she starved in the freeze. I saw the scars that had been revealed in her battles. I saw how much she cared for her kits and she saw how much I cared for her. She grabbed me by the scruff as I was the youngest. The other three kits trudged through the thick cold snow. They fpfwll over while trying to catch up. We found a cave to sleep in but it was cold stone. We didn't car. My mum lay on the frozen stone, dropping me at her paws. The other three entered the cold cave and snuggled up to mum. I joined them. The warmth of my mother made us all fall asleep. The next day, mum was cold and not breathing. The oldest kit nudged her belly. She didn't respond. We instantly knew she was dead but we knew it was safer to stay put in the cave. We buried our mother.few years later, I had built a clan with lots of cats. I was leader of SilverClan and I was names Silverstar. I yoweld "all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Tallrock for a clan meeting!" The cats slowly gathered. "Riverpaw, you've worked hard and become brave and strong. It's time you epwere made a warrior. I, Silverstar, leader of SilverClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down upon this apprentice. Riverpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend the clan, even at the cost of your own life?" Riverpaw looked up at me with a confused and worried face and replied "I-I do" I continued "Then by the power of StarClan I give you your warrior name..." A murmur if surprise spread around the clan but I couldn't hear it. "From this moment on, you will be known as..." ghasps where breaking out from the clan. "...Riverwhisker!"

To Be Continued...

Noice - Ella p.s I highly recommend to listen to life of a showgirl Taylor Swift 👌

One time I fed one of my chickens beets and it dyed her feathers red and I thought she was hurt

Another fun sleep story! Beets, beats, and pink hair!! 💓💓🫜🫜🥁Enjoyable as I drift off to sleep!! 😍ps adding to my playlist
💤💤😴 Thank You!!! 🐝

So good will have to listed to aging so I can hard more might have to do it in the day so I don't fell asleep

This is awesome 🤩🤩🤩keep making more how old are you???