Bedtime with Mrs.
Honeybee Today,
In the Honeybee neighborhood,
We'll be making Mr.
Honeybee's favorite dinner.
Spaghetti!
It's not every day that a spaghetti dinner leads to a legendary adventure.
But today just might be that day,
My little Honeybee.
Mr.
Honeybee has searched every plate of spaghetti he's ever eaten for one special noodle.
A noodle unlike any other.
One that grows longer the longer you cook it.
Legend has it that if you can follow where it leads.
.
.
Well,
You'll see.
Will today be the day we finally feast our eyes on the Kaboodle Noodle?
You're one spaghetti noodle away from an epic tale of gigantic portions.
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 the Honeybee house just in time to help make Mr.
Honeybee's all-time favorite dinner.
Spaghetti!
You hear a commotion in the backyard,
So you go along the side of the house and open the backyard gate.
That's when you know for sure someone must be home because you can smell the slightly sweet aroma of freshly made spaghetti sauce simmering on the stove for hours.
Take a slow,
Deep breath in through your nose.
Smell the delicious dinner being prepared and feel the joy of its anticipation.
Then,
Slowly,
Breathe all the way out through your mouth.
When you turn the corner,
You see everyone out in the garden harvesting fresh herbs and garlic.
As always,
Harold hears you first.
Mr.
Honeybee,
Melody Bee,
Our little Honeybee is here.
I hope you weren't at the door knocking.
You can always just come right in,
My little Honeybee.
Come on over.
We're just picking a few more leaves of basil.
Do you want any herbs for your spaghetti?
I think I'm going to try adding more oregano this time.
If you ask me,
I think it's time to pick some thyme.
Ooh,
That is sage advice,
Mr.
Honeybee.
After his pun,
Mr.
Honeybee proudly plucks the last stem of thyme off the plant and tops the bowl of herbs off with it.
Melody Bee adds some sage to the mix as well.
They each head back inside with Harold trotting behind them.
But we know something they don't know,
Don't we,
My little Honeybee?
Shh!
Neither of them know about our secret herb that we're growing in its own little pot in the greenhouse.
His name is Elvis Parsley.
We'll grab a couple sprigs from him too.
These will be the perfect addition to our sauce.
Together,
We join Mr.
Honeybee and Melody Bee back in the kitchen where the herbs are folded into the sauce at just the right time.
It bubbles happily,
Gobbling up every last bit of the chopped up herbs.
As you know,
The last step is to cook the noodles,
Which you grab from the pantry.
Harold monitors each of your footsteps to make sure you don't drop any delicious morsels.
Without looking at exactly which one,
You grab a package of noodles from the many and head back to the stove.
Harold is running around your heels more than usual,
But you figure he's just happy to see you like he always is.
You open the package and drop the stiff,
Dry noodles into the boiling water.
Like always,
I do my fanciest ballerina twirl,
Then end with a dash of salt for the noodles.
You need to twirl to get the right amount of salt sprinkled into the water.
As you crumple up the noodle package,
You realize that one lone noodle is still stuck to the side of the pot.
You flop it back into the water before throwing away the packaging.
When you return to check on the noodles,
You again see that one long noodle has flopped out of the pot and is hanging over the side.
It's such a long noodle that you can't seem to find the other end.
You bend down to get eye level to the pot and follow the noodle down the side of the pot,
Along the counter,
And back across the floor,
Tracing your footsteps all the way back to the pantry.
Harold sees what you see and just before he opens his mouth to take a gigantic bite of the longest noodle he's ever seen,
Mr.
Honeybee stops him in his tracks.
Harold,
No!
Don't eat that.
I think this is.
.
.
It can't be.
My dear,
I think it has to be.
.
.
What is it?
It's a noodle?
I'm not following.
Well,
I'm following,
But I'm just following the noodle,
Not the conversation.
You tell them,
Mr.
Honeybee.
Everyone,
Please stand back.
Give the noodle some space.
This isn't just any noodle.
You and Melody B.
Stand back in reverence of the mysterious noodle while Harold all but drools over it,
Held back from his instincts by Mr.
Honeybee,
Who lets us wonder for a dramatic moment.
This is.
.
.
The caboodle noodle.
It has to be.
It has to be.
I've only heard about it in legends,
But I knew it was real.
I just knew it.
Our regular Sunday spaghetti dinners definitely upped our chances of meeting a caboodle noodle in person.
Wow!
Can you believe it?
So.
.
.
It's a noodle?
I guess technically,
Yes.
But it's also every noodle in the whole world put together.
It's spaghetti's longest noodle that keeps growing once it's cooked.
Generations of grandma honeybees have said it like this.
If you ever encounter a caboodle noodle,
You're supposed to drop whatever you're doing and follow it.
This noodle supposedly leads back to the noodle farm,
Where the biggest plate of spaghetti sits waiting for those who can get to it.
I grew up hearing all about this,
And now look.
.
.
It's in our kitchen.
We have to follow it.
We have to follow this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,
My little honeybee,
Who can refuse the caboodle noodle's invitation to adventure.
We sure can't,
And experienced adventurers like us will surely get to the spaghetti treasure waiting at the end of this noodle trail.
Without another thought,
We pile into the pantry to see how we could possibly follow the noodle anywhere from the pantry.
Harold sniffs out a tiny trapdoor that suddenly appears.
Mr.
Honeybee lightly pushes on it,
And it creaks open.
We're all able to step in one by one.
We're now walking through the walls of the honeybee house,
And goodness,
Do these walls talk.
The wood beams creak under our footsteps,
And we make our way through the walls,
Up the chimney and onto the roof.
We dust the soot off ourselves,
And Melody Bee flutters up to the noodle that's wrapped around a streetlight,
Which then connects to a nearby telephone wire.
The noodle is so strong that we're able to climb across it all the way to the street lamp,
Then up to the telephone pole.
When we hop onto the wire,
We balance as carefully as we can.
The caboodle noodle is intricately wrapped around the cable,
So we're careful to step over it while still balancing with our arms out to the side.
Right foot,
Left foot,
Right foot,
Left foot.
Take a slow,
Deep breath in through your nose.
Feel the space created in your chest,
And find your center there.
Then,
Slowly,
Breathe all the way out through your mouth,
And continue balancing along the telephone wire,
High above the honeybee neighborhood.
Some neighbors gather,
And we wave as we pass them.
By now,
They know we're always up to some kind of adventure.
They look forward to hearing all about it in the honeybee neighborhood bulletin.
At the last telephone pole,
The noodle drapes down between the trees and into the forest.
It has been a bit misty out,
And there's a dew sprinkled along the noodle,
Which makes it slippery.
Looking down over the forest,
You cannot quite see where it ends.
Melody B flutters around it,
But she can't even tell.
She slides her hand along the noodle to see just how slippery it is.
I think we're going to have to zipline down the noodle.
Harold looks up,
As if to ask who gets the honors of holding him,
While they zipline,
And he focuses in on you.
Still balancing on the telephone wire,
Harold jumps up into your arms and gives you a slobbery puppy kiss.
You,
Of course,
Agree to zipline with him and bravely decide to go first.
Holding Harold in one arm and the noodle in the other hand,
You launch off the telephone pole like you're ziplining through the rainforest.
We follow right behind you.
The wind rushes by as we pick up speed.
Harold's fluffy ears fly back.
He's having so much fun.
We slide down the caboodle noodle around several dizzying twists and turns that lead us deep into the forest and finally to the banks of the Honey River.
Where did the noodle go?
Can you see it?
Harold's nose doesn't work as well with water.
He paces along the sandy banks,
But cannot find it.
We cannot let this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity be lost to the rushing river rapids.
You think quickly and step along the bridge of rocks that cross the river.
From there,
You can see that the noodle isn't lost at all.
It's in the river.
Take another slow,
Deep breath in through your nose to fill your lungs with all the fresh air that you can.
When you breathe out through your mouth,
Lead the way to jump into the rushing river.
Like the fish we swim next to,
We adjust to being underwater as we let the rapids carry us where the caboodle noodle leads.
Eventually,
We get to the ocean,
Which we know because suddenly our noodle trail is tangled in knots around two curious octopi tentacles.
We do them the favor of disentangling their feet,
And they go happily on their way,
As do we,
Traveling through schools of rainbow-colored fish,
Coral reef,
And even a couple shipwrecks.
Everyone,
Please make a mental note of this shipwreck.
We need to come back here.
Mr.
Honeybee gets a little distracted in the shipwreck,
But we're able to pull him back to our current adventure,
Which is continuing on through the depths of the sea.
Once we see the sunshine again,
We know that we're approaching dry land.
Harold dog paddles out ahead of us and runs onto the sandy shore of a beautiful island.
His little paw prints lead the way into a breezy island surrounded by sparkling blue water.
The island paradise takes your breath away,
So you get it back with a slow,
Deep breath in through your nose.
Feel the coolness of the fresh air coming in through your nose and taste the sea salt mist.
Then,
Slowly,
Breathe all the way out through your mouth as the warm sun shines down on us,
Drying our clothes and giving us the energy we need to get to the end of this noodle.
We are more determined than ever.
We climb up steep hills that lead to even more spectacular ocean views.
When we get to a peaceful pasture of farmland,
The noodle suddenly ends.
We look back at the glistening ocean,
Wondering if we missed something.
Then we smell it.
Well,
Harold does.
This doesn't seem like just any old farm,
Everyone.
Look!
Melody B.
Points out that in addition to veggies and herbs,
Just like the garden we have at home,
This is a noodle farm.
We're here.
We made it.
The spaghetti treasure should be around here somewhere.
Find it,
Harold.
Sniff it out.
Harold takes his new job very seriously,
And with a snout to the ground,
He follows the delicious aroma of the world's biggest plate of spaghetti.
He's hot on the trail,
Leading us up and down rows and rows of noodles sprouting fresh from the ground.
We get up to a grove of olive trees and turn the corner to see it.
The biggest plate of spaghetti sparkles in the sunshine.
There are three gigantic forks for us to use.
It takes both of our hands to stand over the plate and spin the noodles around the fork for a big bite.
You get the honors of taking the first bite of the treasured spaghetti.
Take a 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 lightly blow on the noodles to make sure they're the perfect temperature.
Then take a big bite,
Slurping up the last of the noodle.
It's so delicious and tastes just like the homemade spaghetti we make each week.
Together,
We slurp up the spaghetti and,
Of course,
Give Harold a few noodles to nibble on.
The legend of the caboodle noodle just got a new hero,
My little honeybee.
Always remember,
Mrs.
Honeybee believes in you.
You are special and you are loved.
I can't wait to see you again.
