Bedtime Stories With Mrs. Honeybee (8 Hours)

8:48:25

8:48:25

Bedtime Stories With Mrs. Honeybee (8 Hours)

by Mrs. Honeybee

Rated

5

Type

talks

Activity

Meditation

Suitable for

Children

Plays

893

A summer rain turns a day of chores into a muddy adventure when Harold plays chase, leaving paw prints everywhere, especially on Melodybee’s new shoes. Despite her initial horror, a bubble bath for both Harold and the shoes reminds everyone that the memories made are more important than keeping things pristine. By the end, a lesson about fun and letting go of perfection fills the air along with the scent of honey bubbles.- Love, Mrs. Honeybee Featuring: Mr. Honeybee, Melodybee, Roger Robot, and Harold

Bedtime Story Relaxation Family Fun Letting Go Mindfulness

Meet your Teacher

Philadelphia, PA, USA

Meet your Teacher

Philadelphia, PA, USA

Transcript

Bedtime with Mrs. Honeybee. Today, In the Honeybee neighborhood, We'll be thinking about what is really most important. Mrs. Honeybee, Have you seen my new shoes? Aww, Those shoes look great on you, Melanie B. They look lovely. Which size are they, Melanie B? Let me see here. It says here they are extra, Extra, Extra, Extra, Extra, Extra, Extra, Extra small. Well, They fit my bee feet perfectly. I love, Love, Love my new shoes. The weather report isn't calling for rain today, So your new shoes are all set to sparkle. Oh no. Well, What if the weather is wrong? What if it does rain? I'll just stay inside today, Maybe all days. I don't want to get my new shoes muddy. They're perfect. Melanie B, You're so silly. Shoes are meant to be used. But the mud. . . Don't worry, Melanie B. Just enjoy your new shoes. And you have to show our little Honeybee when they get here. Oh, Oh, Oh. I'll do a fashion show. 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 enjoying the soft sunshine on the walk to our house. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the bright sunshine on your skin and lighting up your spirit. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and bask in it fully. With your face tilted up to the sky, You realize that, Suddenly, The sun has slipped behind a cloud. And just as suddenly, It has begun to rain. Sprinkles of refreshingly cool raindrops mist your face and you wipe your eyes clear, Just as you round the corner and see us out in the driveway washing the car. The sun and sprinkling has temporarily interrupted our morning chores, But Harold doesn't seem to notice a bit. With his extra-long leash tethered to the center of the front yard, He utilizes every inch of lead to run in happy circles playing in the summer rain. When he sees you, He yanks against the length of the leash, Trying to get closer to you as you approach. You run up to him with your arms out, Expecting to swoop him up into your arms as you usually do. Before you can, Mr. Honeybee distracts your attention and intervenes into a potentially muddy situation. Little Honeybee, No, Wait, He's all muddy. A little mud never hurt anyone, My dear. Oh, Oh, Not true. When has mud hurt someone? Mudslides, And not the delicious one. Or when mud caked onto your mountain bike so badly that your bike was almost eaten by the mud. Oh yeah, But then we got those big old mud tires. But still. Exactly. The charges against mud have been dropped. Enjoy the mud if you so choose, My little Honeybee. You bend down in the dewy grass, Able to pet a very happy Harold without figuring into the mud debate. But not for long. Harold's puppy smile fades from omnidirectional excitement to a very focused, Mission-oriented game of chase. You knew that look that lingered in his eye and knew what he was going to do well ahead of when he did it. So you began to flee before he could even think about getting you. Together, You and Harold run in circles around the stake in the grass that tethers his leash. Staying in that radius, You leap into the air, Making a game out of evading his muddy paws. He wins the prize of a couple paw prints on your leg, But the drizzling summer rain washes them away. In all of your playing, Mr. Honeybee and I are cheering on the sidelines of the driveway, Still holding the sponge stick and pail from our abandoned project of washing the car. Oh, Whoa! Watch out, My little Honeybee! Here he comes! Phew! Just missed him. And those muddied paws. Harold is on your tail, My little Honeybee. You look back to look at us, And in that quick moment, Harold leaps up into the air, Just about to land in your arms to transfer all of his muddiness to you. But Mr. Honeybee thinks quickly and with a towel outstretched, Catches Harold in a bundle that contains the mud and barely contains all of Harold's squirms. Gotcha, Boy! Phew! That sure was close. Now that Mr. Honeybee is holding Harold, I walk over to unlatch his leash from the tether. Mr. Honeybee is having trouble containing all of Harold's squirms. He's not done with his game of chase, And the zoomies have taken over. Harold, Boy, Let's calm down a bit. We'll get you cleaned up, Then we can play fetch out back. How about that? Harold won't hear any of it, Or simply cannot hear any of it over the sounds of play blaring in his own mind. You and I start cleaning up the car washing equipment since the rain is washing the car for us, And you take this sponge stick that helps us clean the very top of the car in your hands, As well as the pail of soapy water. On our way back to the garage to put away the car washing stuff, Our arms are full, But not as full as Mr. Honeybee's. Harold wiggles one last powerful wiggle and frees himself from the constraints of Mr. Honeybee's arms. He flings his tiny fluffy body through the air, And we all watch in what feels like slow motion until he lands on his paws. Without hesitation, He runs straight for the muddiest puddle that has formed in the grass and rolls around in it like the happiest pig in a mud bath. Mr. Honeybee stands defeated at the edge of the grass, Holding a towel that suddenly becomes mesmerizing to Harold like a bull to a matador's red cape. No, No, No! Harold, No! Harold charges at the towel that Mr. Honeybee is struggling to hide behind at all costs. After a few passes back and forth through the hanging towel, Wishing past Mr. Honeybee and leaving splashes of mud in his wake, Harold loops around the car and belly flops into a second muddy puddle that has formed. The summer rain continues to fall, Conspiring with Harold to become even more muddy. You and I think quickly to grab for more towels to help Mr. Honeybee try to contain a very muddied Harold and join him in the grass out in front of our house. We each take a towel in a corner and hold out the outstretched towel in our hands, Attempting to get close enough to Harold that we wrap him up in a towel cocoon. Harold, Newly delighted, Makes this into a fun game by darting between us. All the commotion on the grass keeps our focus there, And we do not see Melodybee come out of the garage wearing her brand new sparkling white shoes. Thinking we were in the garage because she heard us all laughing and chasing after Harold, She opens the screen door and struts her best strut out into the empty garage. Trying to find us and an audience of admirers to see her brand new shoes, She budges to the edge of the garage and sticks her hand out from under the covering to see if it's still raining. The summer rain has subsided for a moment, And now is her moment to shine, Just like the sun that's peeking back out from behind the clouds. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose as you dart after Harold. Feel your chest and your spirits lift as your cheeks gather into a big smile that gets even bigger. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth, Just as you see the sparkle of Melodybee's new white shoes out of the side of your eyes. Ahem. Hello, Everyone. Melodybee struts out into the driveway, Paying no mind to what we're doing out here. She is consumed by her new shoes and her fashion show, And walks an invisible catwalk all the way down the driveway with her back to us on the grass. All of us, Including Harold, Turn to look at her, And, Again, Time slows down to slow motion. Melodybee twirls around, Basking in the glory of her gleaming shoes, Just in time to see Harold galloping toward her. He no longer looks like the fluffy white dog we all know and love. Oh, No. Now he looks like a mud puddle that has come to life in the shape of a little dog. Beside himself with excitement, Harold wraps himself around Melodybee's legs and feet. She's flabbergasted and cannot muster a reaction to the situation. Beyond a single gasp. Oh, No. Oh, My goodness. Melodybee, Are you okay? You're, You're, You're okay. Right, Melodybee? Melodybee, Frozen with shock, Trying to process what just happened, Stares blankly into the distance that Harold is merrily running around in. He notices that we're no longer playing the game and looks around to see what's changed. Not finding anything, He finally lays at my feet, Sprawled out and muddied in the grass, Panting as if waiting for us to realize that we're not playing. Melodybee? I slowly approach her with my hand outstretched and the towel hanging down from my other hand. I wave in front of her stare a few times to bring her back from the distance. She doesn't respond to my wave, But the summer thunderstorm gets her attention just before a downpour. No, I'll never be okay again. I'm the opposite of okay. Mr. Honeybee scoops Harold up from rolling around in the rain, And we follow Melodybee under the cover of the garage. By now, Harold is exhausted, And he very much enjoys being wrapped in a towel and carried by Mr. Honeybee. We join Melodybee in a circle around her muddy shoes that used to sparkle so bright. She angrily takes them off her feet, Lashing at the shoelaces before her anger subsides back to sadness. Harold sees how upset she is and leans himself down as far as he can to give her a few good puppy kisses on the cheek. She looks up at him and cannot stay mad at such a sweet creature as Harold, But she has nowhere to put how upset she is at the outcome of what should have been a fabulous fashion show. I think I'm a little bit more okay than I thought I was before. Wish I could stay the same for my new shoes. Look at them. They're ruined. Well, Melodybee, What about this? We have to give Harold a bath. Yes, Little guy, It can be a bubble bath. We have to give Harold a bubble bath anyways. Let's give your shoes a bubble bath too. I have shoe polish and heavy-duty cleaners somewhere in these cabinets, So we can try those too. I'm so sorry, Harold. I mean, This happened to you, Shoes. You were so comfy and sparkling, Clean and delightful. Come on, Melodybee. Let's give it a try. They'll be as good as new. I will try, But my heart will not be in it. We'll see how long that lasts. None of us do anything without our whole heart. Mrs. Honeybee, I am not in a place to acknowledge how right you are. I need to mope. We understand, Melodybee. My little Honeybee, Let's go get the bubble bath ready. We'll be ready when you are, Melodybee. Mr. Honeybee grabs some extra fuzzy towels and his strongest shoe cleaner from the garage, And we head to the bathtub, Trusting that Melodybee will join us when she's ready. You start the bath and test out the temperature to make sure it's just right. Warm and soothing to the touch, With just a hint of coolness to refresh, And certainly not too hot. Take this peaceful moment with your hands swaying through the rising bath water to take your slowest, Deepest breath in through your nose. Sink both of your arms into the warmth of the water up past your elbows, And lightly splash some further up your arms to enjoy a mini bath for yourself. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth as we gently lower Harold into the water. Are we going to make our own bubbles today, My dear? Of course! These are the biggest bubbles by far. Harold loves bubbles! And I love that they're all natural, So he can chomp on them all he wants. Once there's a couple inches of water in the tub, I hand you the enormous bottle of Castile soap. Using both hands, You slowly pour the soap out under the faucet to make the most bubbles possible. While you do that, I mix in a bit of sugar for extra exfoliation and crack one of our farm-fresh eggs into the bath, Careful to let only the egg white out of the shell. This is a little trick I learned. Egg whites make the bubbles stronger, So they can grow bigger and much more fun. Mr. Honey Bee drizzles in some honey, Half hoping to attract Melody Bee from her sorrows in the garage, And half for the cleansing and restorative properties of honey itself. Did you know that honey never ever expires, My little honey bee? Honey that is over 3, 000 years old has been found in the tombs of the Egyptian pharaohs. And that honey is still perfectly preserved and edible. It's true. There is an interesting science behind it, Too. Honey has. . . Before Mr. Honey Bee can finish his sentence, Melody Bee mopes into the bathroom doorway and mope-ily finishes it for him. Antimicrobial properties that make it last forever. It's really bee alchemy that makes honey so special. There's just enough hydrogen peroxide that's infused in the process of making honey, Which I'll spare you from, That it fights off any potential bacteria from growing. So typically, Anything watery that finds itself in honey will become more or less sterile. Well, More sterile. Because the naturally occurring enzymes stop the little bacterial organisms from spreading. One of the many wonders of us honey bees. Melody Bee, It's so nice to see you smiling, Even if it's a little one. Honey Bee never ceases to amaze me. Wow. With attention brought to it, Melody Bee manually diminishes the smile from her face but acknowledges that Harold's bubble bath smells delicious. Her smile cannot help but grow as she plays in the gigantic bubbles that have formed. You and Melody Bee try to pick them up out of the bath one by one and hold them up to your heads to compare sizes. The bubbles are even bigger than your heads before Harold pops them. Without distracting Melody Bee from her regained joy, We each quietly and slowly grab one of Melody Bee's shoes that have fallen to the floor without her realizing it. We dunk them into the bath and scrub them really well getting into all the tiny nook and crannies of these tiny white shoes. The restored gleam we achieve on the shoes gets her attention. Aww, They really do clean up nicely, Don't they? See Melody Bee? As good as new. Melody Bee suspiciously takes one of her shoes into her own hands and inspects them under a scrupulous gaze. Looking at their soles, The folds at the top, And each of the seams. No! No! They're tinged! These are tinged forever now. They're never going to be brand new again. That gives them character, Melody Bee. Oh yeah, Good point Mrs. Honey Bee. Just like my work boots, I couldn't wait for those to be caked in mud and dirt. It's a way to remember all the hard work I put in while wearing them. Or like the calluses that form on the bottom of your feet. The ones that it tickles us to remove during pedicures. You know those? Well, Those are a sign of working feet as well. Experienced hikers wear them like a badge of honor. I have some friends that even insist on hiking barefoot because their feet won't let them slip as easily as some shoes. Isn't that something? Character, Huh? So, I can look at these tinged bits and remember this moment. Exactly. I can look at these somewhat dingy, Accidentally off-white shoelaces and remember this sweet-smelling bath. There you go. Okay, Move over Harold. This honey bath is irresistible. Melody B plunges into the bubbles and emerges inside of one, Fluttering her wings dry. Harold jumps up to chomp it and successfully pops the bubble. She tries to make him his very own bubble and busies herself with that instead of sulking about her shoes. It was a good reminder for Melody B and for us that things, Even precious things or irreplaceable things, Are still just things no matter how much we love them. And it's perfectly okay to love them. But things are like vessels, Little compartments that carry what's even more important, Which are memories. As soon as something has a physical form, Gravity and all the other forces at play begin to do the work that they do in time. Cherished memories choose to take up residence in these things. But when they break or we lose them, Our memories go back to their real home in our hearts. Always remember, Mrs. Honey B believes in you. You are special and you are loved. I can't wait to see you again. Mrs. Honey B Today, In the Honey B 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. Honey B will be your guide. Let's begin. You are here, In the Honey B neighborhood, Walking up to our house. The garage is open today, And you see Mr. Honey B 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 Honey B. How are you today? While you chat with Mr. Honey B, 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 B buzzes to his aid, But she cannot quite work that door either. Why are these doors so complicated? Little Honey B, 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 B out. They dash out to greet you with big, Squeezing hugs. Then you all wander back to Mr. Honey B'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 Honey B. 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 all right. 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 B. 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 B. Wow. This has been a rollercoaster. I'm exhausted. Maybe the satellites are just tired, Too. Well, 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. Oh. 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 spacesuit 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 spacesuits. 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. 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-I-N-G. B-E-E A spelling bee with spelling bees. The spelling bees and I take this very seriously. S-E-I. 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. 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-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. Wow. 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, 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 know 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. Alright, 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. Alright. 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. Mm-hmm. 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. That 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. 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. 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. 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. Mr. Honey Bee? 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. How 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. Here, 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 of 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 towards 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. He broke through the sidewalk and poked up his head just to say hello. 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, Onto 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 Honey Bee 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 honey bee? 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. Honey Bee 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. Honey Bee 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. Honey Bee 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. Honey Bee 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. 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 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. Honey Bee 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 Honey Bee. 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. Honey Bee. 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 Honey Bee, You're here. Is it time for the excavation exploration? So funny you ask, Because yes, It is. The 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. Honey Bee? 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 Honey Bee 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 Honey Bee. 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. Honey Bee, 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. Honey Bee? Let me see. Look. Excavation. Exploration. Afternoon tunes. Color me impressed, Mr. Honey Bee. I didn't know you were a poet. So strange how it got named that. What a weird technical glitch. Mr. Honey Bee 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 honey bee. 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. Dibby, 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! 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, 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, 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. Look 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, From 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. Honeybee, 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. Honeybee, 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, Then 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 back seat though. What if we take it apart, Go back home, And build it a nice little, I mean, Huge terrarium? Right next to the unicorn stable. They'll have so much fun together, Eventually. 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. Aw, 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 chops for? What are the chopsticks for, My dear? Well, I couldn't find skis in 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 could 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 me, 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 like it. 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! Pizza, Melody Bee. Remember? I'm not hungry, Mrs. Honeybee. No! Pizza on the skis! I'm falling! I can't possibly. . . 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. Whew, 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 our bodies 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 so none of the 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! On the double black diamond slope? Maybe there's sideways oddly shaped rectangles. 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 and stays by her side 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. . . 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 um busy working on stuff and things you know stuff and things. What things? The thingy kinda stuff and the stuffy kinda things. Okay Mr. Honey 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 from Mr. Honey Bee's inevitable reaction. 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. 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 Bee rush out into the garage to greet you with big hugs. Harold, 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 to 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? Hmm. 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. And. . . Melody Bee'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. . . Uh. . . 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. Um. . . I wanted to show you. . . This flower. What is this flower? I saw it this morning and was just struck by its beauty. Um. . . 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 to write for a bit. Melody Bee are you going to be out in the garden for a while? No. I was gonna. . . I thought you were going to repot all those flowers over there? Oh! Ahem. 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. He never takes naps. 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 a wooden 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. 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. 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 seemed 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 two 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. 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's 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 downstairs 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 the 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. Harold, No! Stop! How did he get through the screen door? 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 scarfed 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 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. Phew, 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? No, Our hardware and software is much more fixed than yours. 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 eight 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. He's my newest prototype, But he's still kind of new. Well, It's wonderful to meet you, Roger Robot. 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 Robot, 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. 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, It's a very special day. A day that only comes around once a year. Valentine's Day? No. Did they move Christmas? Not since the last time I checked. It's the single most important day in neighborhood history. The day of its founding, August 31st, Also known as Honey Bee Neighborhood Day. Of course. Harold and I just finished watching the whole movie of last year's celebration. So many wonderful memories were made. And I have a feeling that this year is going to be even more special. 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 to our house, Around the familiar corner you always do. The one from which you can first see our house after your stroll through the Honey Bee neighborhood. Today, It looks much different, Though. Not only are all of our neighbors out and about at the same time, But they are busily setting up for what is a very, Very special day. Today is August 31st, Or as you and all our other neighbors in the extended world full of family call it, Honey Bee Neighborhood Day. On this very day, Many, Many years ago, The Honey Bee ancestors formed together to create a place for imagination to soar and a sense of belonging to coalesce around each of our shoulders like a hug. The permanent hug we all still feel each time we gather around a new adventure is the same one they created so long ago when the Honey Bee neighborhood itself came to be. As you turn the corner today, Not only can you see the difference, But you can feel it too. Floating through the air like a brilliant new idea that hasn't landed in your head yet, But is still waiting to be plucked. Your typically solitary walk up to our house is now filled to the brim with joyous neighbors busily and dutifully preparing their small part of the celebration. 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 your chest out, Filled with the joy in the air. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and continue on toward our house, Smiling a little bigger with each step and scanning the crowd for our faces. Before you see us, Harold, And then Melody Bee, See you. Little Honey Bee, Welcome to the celebration. We're having our annual neighborhood block party today. You're just in time to help set up. Here, Can you take this over to Mr. Honey Bee? He's waiting for these. Melody Bee hands you a box that is much lighter than it looks. It's filled with red raffle tickets with numbers printed on them. Harold trots at your feet as you make your way over to Mr. Honey Bee and me. At first, You don't notice it, But as you approach, You see that both of us are wearing our bee costumes, Complete with wings and antennae. Oh, Are those the raffle tickets? Perfect. We already have people lining up. We have the best prizes. Here, I'll take that. Hello, My little Honey Bee. It's so nice to see you, Especially today. We're going to have so much fun. There's going to be a raffle, A parade, Some games, And all the best summer foods. Oh, And this. You, Of course, Need to wear your wings. I slip a headband with springy antennas over your head and tuck it comfortably behind your ears. Holding your head up, You can see the little spheres at the ends of the antennas coming into view. You throw your head back and forth to make them wiggle even more as you put your wings on like a backpack over your shoulders. Harold also has his wings, Antennae, And even a stinger on. Together, You two set off into the beginnings of the celebration to see what there is to do. That quickly devolves into a game of tag, Which Melody Bee happily barges in on. You and Harold race by the booth set up by neighbors where they showcase what they create and build. Captain E. J. Is sitting up on his roof where people have climbed up to hear him tell all of his missions. There are so many people gathered that some can't even fit on the roof and are listening from the ground, Yelling up their questions. Princess Powa has a woodworking table where she happily shows passerbys the birdhouses she's made. Barry Beaver has a stack of handmade invitations inviting all the neighbors, Beavers and non-beavers alike, To stay at the Hodge Podge Lodge. Yama, The renowned honeybee neighborhood chef, Is in front of her table on the corner giving out samples of her latest recipes. You and Melody Bee stop just long enough to taste test some of the offerings before Harold continues his chase. You can already tell, Today is going to be so much fun, But you cannot sit still long enough to process how happy you are to be here in the sunshine surrounded by so much love. Melody Bee and Harold chase you into a new hiding spot behind a neighbor's tree across the street. When you peek out from behind the trunk to see if they've spotted your hiding place, You see that they are facing away from you, Captivated by something in the distance. You step out from behind the tree to see the first of dozens of parade floats slowly turning the corner. The rest of the streets have been shut down to allow the floats to go by and all the neighbors who weren't out setting up now poured out of their houses to see the parade. Melody Bee and Harold cheer for its arrival and the rest of the crowd gathers along the sidewalks to get a good view of them as they roll by. When you fully step out from behind the tree, Mr. Honey Bee and I finally see you. You were hiding too well. We almost couldn't find you. Come on. You're going to help us drive the main attraction, The Great Honey Bee Float. You know how to drive a float, Don't you, My little Honey Bee? If not, It's okay. You'll have some help. The Great Honey Bee Float pulls up to where we stand on the sidewalk. You crane your neck to look all the way up and a gigantic house-sized Honey Bee towers over you. Melody Bee and the Honey Bee Community Garden spend all year growing the flowers that this float is made with. It's lined with flowers called pansies that alternate in stripes of yellow and black. I sewed together the wings which flap at the top like flags and springy mechanical antennas sway in the wind and also by remote control, Which Mr. Honey Bee holds in his hand. In the antenna, Mr. Honey Bee has installed a wide-angle camera to be able to capture the celebration like the best of home movies for us to watch and experience it all over again. For as long as the neighborhood has been celebrated, There is documentary footage of the fun that was had. And last, But certainly not least, Roger insisted there be a stinger for accuracy purposes only, Or so he promises. When the float parks in front of you, The smell of fresh flowers overwhelms you with its sweetness, So much so that you immediately reach out your hands to brush your fingertips against the bright yellow flowers. Take another slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel your chest expanding out like a yellow flower bloom filled with sunshine and delight. Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and walk the length of the float, Inspecting it with all of your senses. Behind you, Mr. Honey Bee pats the side of the Great Honey Bee float along one of the black stripes, And suddenly a door swings open. Inside, Roger Robot sits at the captain's seat, Driving the whole thing with a dashboard that looks like a spaceship. Come aboard, Everyone! For your own safety, Please keep your arms, Legs, Fingers, And toes inside the float at all times, Especially those pinky fingers and toes. We all climb into the float and find seats throughout. There is a seat right in front, Beside Roger, At the dashboard for you. Mr. Honey Bee and I take the seats along the sides with Melody Bee and Harold. Before you can sit down, Roger switches seats with you and takes yours so you can take his seat at the steering wheel. This huge float is controlled by a very tiny steering wheel, But somehow it works. You place your hands on the wheel, And Roger starts the engine. Out the windshield, You can see excited neighbors waiting for the parade to start. There are floats behind you for as far as you can see, And they're all waiting on us, On you, To kick off the annual Honey Bee Neighborhood Day Parade. With that, You lightly press the gas pedal while Mr. Honey Bee pans the antenna cameras to capture the growing crowd's happily smiling faces. Roger clicks buttons and pushes levers up and down to flap the wings. The crowd cheers, So excited for the symbol of our industrious unity to flutter on by. You feel as important as you are while driving the float and bringing joy to those around you. But more than that, You feel that you are part of something much, Much bigger than you, And that is a feeling you let yourself get lost in while you slowly drive the float with Roger Robot by your side. Mr. Honey Bee and I are cheering you on at your back, And Melody Bee and Harold are buzzing around the dashboard trying to get a better look of everyone outside. I cannot see everyone from here. This will not do. Let's go to the roof. Who's with me? We can wave like queens. Roger, Are you okay to take over driving while we go to the roof? I think so. My dear, Doesn't the float have autopilot? Oh my goodness, What was I thinking? It does. Come on, Roger. Let's go to the roof. Roger that, Mrs. Honey Bee. With that, Harold leads the way up a spiraling staircase that leads to the top of the float where each of us takes our place. From here, You can see all the neighbors that have gathered from near and far to see this and you. Your hand lifts as if it's on its own and you wave excitedly at everyone that cheers as the float rolls by slowly winding through the streets of the Honey Bee neighborhood. Time flies because you're having so much fun and before you know it, We have driven the whole parade route and ended at a very specific spot. We have arrived, My creature friends. You look over to see where Roger Robot's outstretched hand is pointing to and see that the parade route ends at the base of the world's tallest water slide that you helped Mr. Honey Bee build. Water slide, Here we come. Do we have the bubble tube for Roger? I don't think that'll be necessary, Actually. Someone needs to robot the float instead of, Uh. . . Nonsense, Roger. We have your waterproofing right here. Now you can slide down with us. But, But, But the float, What about the float? Float schmoot, Let's slide. Even the not yet waterproofed Roger Robot cannot resist the world's tallest water slide. With a snap of his fingers, Roger turns into a miniature UFO and hovers straight to the top of the slide. The rest of us climb to the top behind him, Rung by rung. Right hand, Right foot, Left hand, Left foot. Once at the top, Mr. Honey Bee inflates an inner tube that will fit all of us. That even includes a waterproof bubble attachment for Roger. Before he hops into the bubble, He transforms into a mechanical fish that will be able to swim safely inside. If I must be submerged in water, I will be a fish. Aww, I want to be a fish. Can you transform us too, Roger? One does not simply transform. It takes decades of discipline and dedicated practice to transform your mind. Roger, How could you have prepared your mind for decades without having been built decades ago? That is beside the point, Mr. Honey Bee. Uh, Silly question. So you can't transform us, Roger? Of course I can. I can transform anyone and anything. Such silly questions all around. So what do you want to be? Oh, I know, I know. Um, Should I be a fish or a flower? Imagine how fun it would be to be a flower. A tulip. But a fish would be fun too. One of those glow-in-the-dark ones. I don't know. What do you think, Roger? Platypus it is. Wait, What? As we hop onto the inner tube that's floating on the surface of the powerful stream of water, Roger Robot transforms us into whatever we want to be, One by one. Take your slowest, Deepest breath in through your nose. Imagine what in the world or beyond you'd like to be until you cannot take in any more air. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and transform inside a cloud of sparkle and color. Once we're all transformed and loaded onto the inner tube, We prepare to slide down by looking over the top of the rushing stream of water that falls almost straight down after push-off. With no time to worry about the heights, On the count of three, Two, One, We all slide down the world's tallest water slide, Gaining speed as we go. You didn't realize this before, But after it was built, Mr. Honeybee and the helpful hardware store beavers installed not one, But two loops. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention the loops. It'll be fun. Hold on, My little Honeybee. You see the loops come up ahead and brace yourself to climb even higher into the air until you are upside down. Your belly falls on your way back down the first and then the second loop. We gain even more speed on the way back down. The air rushes by your ears and your cheeks are sore from smiling so big. When we finally approach the bottom of the slide, We prepare for a humongous splash that will bring us to a stop. The neighbors that gathered around for this exact splash are soaked upon our arrival. With that, The pool party officially begins and everyone that can fit jumps into the pool as more and more people take their turns sliding down. Everywhere you look, Someone is having the time of their life. Each of us remembers our favorite moments in the Honeybee neighborhood and enjoys sharing the laugh with our neighbor. Do you have a favorite moment in all of our many adventures, My little Honeybee? If you were to ask me, I couldn't pick just one. Instead, I'd ball up all the moments we've shared together into one gigantic moment that never ends. And I'd call that one my favorite ever. 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 thinking about what is really most important. Mrs. Honeybee, Have you seen my new shoes? Aw, Those shoes look great on you, Melody Bee. They look lovely. What size are they, Melody Bee? Let me see here. It says here they are extra, Extra, Extra, Extra, Extra, Extra, Extra, Extra, Extra small. Well, They fit my bee feet perfectly. I love, Love, Love my new shoes. The weather report isn't calling for rain today, So your new shoes are all set to sparkle. Oh no, Well, What if the weather is wrong? What if it does rain? I'll just stay inside today, Maybe all day. I don't want to get my new shoes muddy. They're perfect. Melody Bee, You're so silly. Shoes are meant to be used. But the mud. Don't worry, Melody Bee. Just enjoy your new shoes. And you have to show our little Honey Bee when they get here. Oh, Oh, Oh, I'll do it. 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 enjoying the soft sunshine on the walk to our house. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the bright sunshine on your skin and lighting up your spirit. Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and bask in it fully. With your face tilted up to the sky, You realize that suddenly the sun has slipped behind a cloud and just as suddenly it has begun to rain. Sprinkles of refreshingly cool raindrops mist your face and you wipe your eyes clear just as you round the corner and see us out in the driveway washing the car. The sun and sprinkling has temporarily interrupted our morning chores, But Harold doesn't seem to notice a bit. With his extra-long leash tethered to the center of the front yard, He utilizes every inch of lead to run in happy circles playing in the summer rain. When he sees you, He yanks against the length of the leash trying to get closer to you as you approach. You run up to him with your arms out expecting to swoop him up into your arms as you usually do. Before you can, Mr. Honeybee distracts your attention and intervenes into a potentially muddy situation. Little Honeybee, No, Wait, He's all muddy. A little mud never hurt anyone, My dear. Oh, Oh, Not true. When has mud hurt someone? Mudslides, And not the delicious one. Or when mud caked onto your mountain bike so badly that your bike was almost eaten by the mud. Oh yeah, But then we got those big old mud tires. But still. Exactly, The charges against mud have been dropped. Enjoy the mud if you so choose, My little Honeybee. You bend down in the dewy grass, Able to pet a very happy Harold without figuring into the mud debate. But not for long. Harold's puppy smile fades from omnidirectional excitement to a very focused, Mission-oriented game of chase. You knew that look that lingered in his eye and knew what he was going to do well ahead of when he did it. So you began to flee before he could even think about getting you. Together, You and Harold run in circles around the stake in the grass that tethers his leash. Staying in that radius, You leap into the air, Making a game out of evading his muddy paws. He wins the prize of a couple paw prints on your leg, But the drizzling summer rain washes them away. In all of your playing, Mr. Honeybee and I are cheering on the sidelines of the driveway, Still holding the sponge stick and pail from our abandoned project of washing the car. Oh whoa, Watch out, My little Honeybee. Here he comes. Phew, Just missed him and those muddied paws. Harold is on your tail, My little Honeybee. You look back to look at us, And in that quick moment, Harold leaps up into the air, Just about to land in your arms to transfer all of his muddiness to you. But Mr. Honeybee thinks quickly, And with a towel outstretched, Catches Harold in a bundle that contains the mud and barely contains all of Harold's squirms. Gotcha, Boy. Phew, That sure was close. Now that Mr. Honeybee is holding Harold, I walk over to unlatch his leash from the tether. Mr. Honeybee is having trouble containing all of Harold's squirms. He's not done with his game of chase, And the zoomies have taken over. Harold boy, Let's calm down a bit. We'll get you cleaned up, Then we can play fetch out back. How about that? Harold won't hear any of it, Or simply cannot hear any of it over the sounds of play blaring in his own mind. You and I start cleaning up the car washing equipment since the rain is washing the car for us, And you take this sponge stick that helps us clean the very top of the car in your hands, As well as the pail of soapy water. On our way back to the garage to put away the car washing stuff, Our arms are full, But not as full as Mr. Honeybee's. Harold wiggles one last powerful wiggle and frees himself from the constraints of Mr. Honeybee's arms. He flings his tiny fluffy body through the air, And we all watch in what feels like slow motion until he lands on his paws. Without hesitation, He runs straight for the muddiest puddle that has formed in the grass and rolls around in it like the happiest pig in a mud bath. Mr. Honeybee stands defeated at the edge of the grass, Holding a towel that suddenly becomes mesmerizing to Harold like a bull to a matador's red cape. No, No, No! Harold, No! Harold charges at the towel that Mr. Honeybee is struggling to hide behind at all costs. After a few passes back and forth through the hanging towel, Whooshing past Mr. Honeybee and leaving splashes of mud in his wake, Harold loops around the car and belly flops into a second muddy puddle that has formed. The summer rain continues to fall, Conspiring with Harold to become even more muddy. You and I think quickly to grab for more towels to help Mr. Honeybee try to contain a very muddied Harold and join him in the grass out in front of our house. We each take a towel in a corner and hold out the outstretched towel in our hands, Attempting to get close enough to Harold that we wrap him up in a towel cocoon. Harold, Newly delighted, Makes this into a fun game by darting between us. All the commotion on the grass keeps our focus there and we do not see Melodybee come out of the garage wearing her brand new sparkling white shoes. Thinking we were in the garage because she heard us all laughing and chasing after Harold, She opens the screen door and struts her best strut out into the empty garage. Trying to find us and an audience of admirers to see her brand new shoes, She budges to the edge of the garage and sticks her hand out from under the covering to see if it's still raining. The summer rain has subsided for a moment and now is her moment to shine, Just like the sun that's peeking back out from behind the clouds. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose as you dart after Harold. Feel your chest and your spirits lift as your cheeks gather into a big smile that gets even bigger. Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth just as you see the sparkle of Melodybee's new white shoes out of the side of your eyes. Melodybee struts out into the driveway paying no mind to what we're doing out here. She is consumed by her new shoes and her fashion show and walks an invisible catwalk all the way down the driveway with her back to us on the grass. All of us, Including Harold, Turn to look at her and, Again, Time slows down to slow motion. Melodybee twirls around, Basking in the glory of her gleaming shoes, Just in time to see Harold galloping toward her. He no longer looks like the fluffy white dog we all know and love. Oh no, Now he looks like a mud puddle that has come to life in the shape of a little dog. Beside himself with excitement, Harold wraps himself around Melodybee's legs and feet. She's flabbergasted and cannot muster a reaction to the situation beyond a single gasp. Oh no! Oh my goodness! Melodybee, Are you okay? You're, You're, You're okay, Right Melodybee? Melodybee, Frozen with shock, Trying to process what just happened, Stares blankly into the distance that Harold is merrily running around in. He notices that we're no longer playing the game and looks around to see what's changed. Not finding anything, He finally lays at my feet, Sprawled out and muddied in the grass, Panting as if waiting for us to realize that we're not playing. Melodybee? I slowly approach her with my hand outstretched and the towel hanging down from my other hand. I wave in front of her stare a few times to bring her back from the distance. She doesn't respond to my wave, But the summer thunderstorm gets her attention just before a downpour. No, I'll never be okay again. I'm the opposite of okay. Mr. Honeybee scoops Harold up from rolling around in the rain and we follow Melodybee under the cover of the garage. By now, Harold is exhausted and he very much enjoys being wrapped in a towel and carried by Mr. Honeybee. We join Melodybee in a circle around her muddy shoes that used to sparkle so bright. She angrily takes them off her feet, Lashing at the shoelaces before her anger subsides back to sadness. Harold sees how upset she is and leans himself down as far as he can to give her a few good puppy kisses on the cheek. She looks up at him and cannot stay mad at such a sweet creature as Harold, But she has nowhere to put how upset she is at the outcome of what should have been a fabulous fashion show. I think I'm a little bit more okay than I thought I was before. Wish I could stay the same for my new shoes. Look at them. They're ruined. Well, Melodybee, What about this? We have to give Harold a bath. Yes, Little guy, It can be a bubble bath. We have to give Harold a bubble bath anyways. Let's give your shoes a bubble bath too. I have shoe polish and heavy-duty cleaners somewhere in these cabinets, So we can try those too. I'm so sorry, Harold. I mean this happened to you, Shoes. You were so comfy and sparkling, Clean and delightful. Come on, Melodybee, Let's give it a try. They'll be as good as new. I will try, But my heart will not be in it. We'll see how long that lasts. None of us do anything without our whole heart. Mrs. Honeybee, I am not in a place to acknowledge how right you are. I need to mope. We understand, Melodybee. My little Honeybee, Let's go get the bubble bath ready. We'll be ready when you are, Melodybee. Mr. Honeybee grabs some extra fuzzy towels and his strongest shoe cleaner from the garage, And we head to the bathtub, Trusting that Melodybee will join us when she's ready. You start the bath and test out the temperature to make sure it's just right. Warm and soothing to the touch, With just a hint of coolness to refresh, And certainly not too hot. Take this peaceful moment with your hands swaying through the rising bath water to take your slowest, Deepest breath in through your nose. Sink both of your arms into the warmth of the water up past your elbows, And lightly splash some further up your arms to enjoy a mini bath for yourself. Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth as we gently lower Harold into the water. Are we going to make our own bubbles today, My dear? Of course. These are the biggest bubbles by far. Harold loves bubbles. And I love that they're all natural, So he can chomp on them all he wants. Once there's a couple inches of water in the tub, I hand you the enormous bottle of Castile soap. Using both hands, You slowly pour the soap out under the faucet to make the most bubbles possible. While you do that, I mix in a bit of sugar for extra exfoliation, And crack one of our farm-fresh eggs into the bath, Careful to let only the egg white out of the shell. This is a little trick I learned. Egg whites make the bubbles stronger, So they can grow bigger and much more fun. Mr. Honey Bee drizzles in some honey, Half hoping to attract Melody Bee from her sorrows in the garage, And half for the cleansing and restorative properties of honey itself. Did you know that honey never, Ever expires, My little honey bee? Honey that is over 3, 000 years old has been found in the tombs of the Egyptian pharaohs. And that honey is still perfectly preserved and edible. It's true. There is an interesting science behind it, Too. Honey has. . . Before Mr. Honey Bee can finish his sentence, Melody Bee mopes into the bathroom doorway and mope-ily finishes it for him. Antimicrobial properties that make it last forever. It's really bee alchemy that makes honey so special. There's just enough hydrogen peroxide that's infused in the process of making honey, Which I'll spare you from, That it fights off any potential bacteria from growing. So typically, Anything watery that finds itself in honey will become more or less sterile. Well, More sterile. Because the naturally occurring enzymes stop the little bacterial organisms from spreading. One of the many wonders of us honey bees. Melody Bee, It's so nice to see you smiling, Even if it's a little one. Honey Bee never ceases to amaze me. Wow. With attention brought to it, Melody Bee manually diminishes the smile from her face, But acknowledges that Harold's bubble bath smells delicious. Her smile cannot help but grow as she plays in the gigantic bubbles that have formed. You and Melody Bee try to pick them up out of the bath one by one and hold them up to your heads to compare sizes. The bubbles are even bigger than your heads before Harold pops them. Without distracting Melody Bee from her regained joy, We each quietly and slowly grab one of Melody Bee's shoes that have fallen to the floor without her realizing it. We dunk them into the bath and scrub them really well, Getting into all the tiny nook and crannies of these tiny white shoes. The restored gleam we achieve on the shoes gets her attention. Aw, They really do clean up nicely, Don't they? See, Melody Bee? As good as new. Melody Bee suspiciously takes one of her shoes into her own hands and inspects them under a scrupulous gaze, Looking at their soles, The folds at the top, And each of the seams. No, No, Look at tinged. These are tinged forever now. They're never going to be brand new again. That gives them character, Melody Bee. Oh yeah, Good point, Mrs. Honey Bee. Just like my work boots, I couldn't wait for those to be caked in mud and dirt. It's a way to remember all the hard work I put in while wearing them. Or like the calluses that form on the bottom of your feet, The ones that it tickles us to remove during pedicures. You know those? Well, Those are a sign of working feet as well. Experienced hikers wear them like a badge of honor. I have some friends that even insist on hiking barefoot because their feet won't let them slip as easily as some shoes. Isn't that something? Character, Huh? So, I can look at these tinged bits and remember this moment. Exactly. I can look at these somewhat dingy, Accidentally off-white shoelaces and remember this sweet-smelling bath. There you go. Okay, Move over, Harold. This honey bath is irresistible. Melody Bee plunges into the bubbles and emerges inside of one, Fluttering her wings dry. Harold jumps up to chomp it and successfully pops the bubble. She tries to make him his very own bubble and busies herself with that instead of sulking about her shoes. It was a good reminder for Melody Bee and for us that things, Even precious things or irreplaceable things, Are still just things, No matter how much we love them. And it's perfectly okay to love them, But things are like vessels, Little compartments that carry what's even more important, Which are memories. As soon as something has a physical form, Gravity and all the other forces at play begin to do the work that they do in time. Cherished memories choose to take up residence in these things, But when they break or we lose them, Our memories go back to their real home in our hearts. 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've set up a day of relaxation. Absolutely nothing on the schedule today, But one thing, Let me check. All it says is fun. Let me guess. We'll be able to find you in the hammock, My dear? The weather is perfect for it. But of course, I'll be in the hammock with my latest book. Hammocks are for laying, But beautiful days are for buzzing. Wow, It's really bright out here, Isn't it? I can hardly see. Mr. Honey Bee, Can I wear your sunglasses again? They make me look famous. Yes, You can, Melody Bee. Here you go. It looks like we're almost all ready for our day of relaxation in the sunshine. I'm going to grab my book from upstairs, Then I'll meet you outside. I bet you can't catch me, Mr. Honey Bee. Oh, Yeah? Watch me. 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, Arriving at our brightly colored front door. Harold sounds much further away than usual today, Which brings you to the conclusion that we are out in the backyard. Instead of knocking, You walk along the porch to the gate at the side of the house and let yourself in, Like you always know you can. Once inside the gate, You assume Harold will hear you, But he's much too focused on the rousing game of tag that is going on between him, Melody Bee, And Mr. Honey Bee, Who currently seems to be it. The fruit trees on the side of the house have grown tall, And they shade you from the bright sunshine. As you stroll along, The walking path stones turns into a whimsical hop. Right foot, Left foot, Right foot, Left foot. From the hammock, I see you hopping and wave hello as you hop all the way to the second hammock beside me. Hello, My little honey bee. I wish I could always look up and see your smiling face surprise me. It's so nice to see you on this beautiful day. You lean into the hammock, And with a final little hop, You let it carry you fully while it sways back and forth, Back and forth, Slowly coming back into a gentle balance with the warm breeze. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the invigorating coolness of fresh air coming in through your nose, Making its way to your lungs, And slowly but surely expanding out your chest. Then breathe all the way out through your mouth and let yourself feel heavy in the hammock, Held effortlessly between the lines, With birds singing above and sun shining through the leaves. It looks like Mr. Honey Bee is tired of being it. Oh, Goodness. He's getting the hose. Dear, Remember to turn it back to the shower setting so it's gentle. So what's gentle? Oh, Hi, Little honey bee. Just as Melody Bee and Harold see that you've arrived and joined me on the hammocks, Mr. Honey Bee hoses them down with a gentle setting. For the moment, They forget they were coming over to see you and run as fast as they can away from the sudden hose shower. But Mr. Honey Bee will not let them get away. Who's it now, Huh? Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha. We giggle to ourselves, And Melody Bee and Harold risk hose water to the face as they get in close, Trying to wrangle the hose handle from Mr. Honey Bee. We look away just as Melody Bee attempts her secret tactic of a bee buzz to the ear. As we chit-chat about the day we are having and how wonderful it is to be out in the sunshine, We hear the sharp transition from friendly antics to a worried kerfuffle. Oh, My goodness. Oh, My goodness. Mr. Honey Bee, Are you okay? Oh, My goodness. I'm so, So, So, So, So, So sorry. Are you okay? Harold beelines towards us, Asking for help because something has gone terribly, Though accidentally, Wrong. We bolt up from the hammocks and rush to Mr. Honey Bee and Melody Bee with Harold. I'm totally fine, Melody Bee. I'm totally fine. It's just a little, Oh, Just a little, Oh, Sting. Just a little one. Phew, That stinger is in there pretty good, Isn't it? Oh, My goodness. I'm a criminal. I'm a criminal. Lock me up. That's the end of Melody Bee. How can I call myself a BFF? I can't. I just can't. What happened? Mr. Honey Bee, Are you okay? Your face is flush. I stung him. I stung one of my very best friends. He's stung, Mrs. Honey Bee. He needs to go to the hospital. He's hurt. I hurt him. Melody Bee, I'm fine, Really. I've been stung before. Really, It's no big deal. What are you talking about? No big deal? This is the highest order of offense. You're in pain, So much pain that you can't even admit it. You do seem to have some swelling, My dear. Let me go in and grab some apple cider vinegar and aloe vera for the skin. When I return from the kitchen with our homemade remedy, I return to a much different scene. Mr. Honey Bee's face and hand have swelled up like a red balloon. He tries to talk as he normally does, But his slurred speech betrays how not well he is. I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm so sorry, My dear. It looks like this was a double-header stinger. You had one in your hand, Too. Oh my goodness. I'm going to pass out. Melody Bee nervously watches on while we gently hold ice packs up to Mr. Honey Bee's stings. To help process and ease the pain, We slow our breathing down so we can respond to the rapidly developing situation. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Bring your awareness to the coolness of the air coming in through your nose and the ice packs in your hands. Then, Slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and use your own calm to calm the entire situation. And mostly, At this point, Melody Bee. Oh my goodness. Mr. Honey Bee, I think you might be allergic to bee stings. Really? I didn't use to be. It's just me. You're allergic to me. No, I'm not, Melody Bee. My dear, Are you having any difficulty breathing? How do you feel? I'm just fine. I promise. I would tell you if I wasn't. Call the ambulance immediately. More like the wham-bulance. And I think you need to order me, Melody Bee. What? He said? He's just kidding, Melody Bee. He said you need the wham-bulance. Do you need us to get you medical care, My dear? No, No. Just the wham-bulance for Melody Bee. Please call me three wham-bulances. I need emergency treatment. We continue to monitor Mr. Honey Bee and apply cold compresses to his bee stings, And Melody Bee continues to panic. You think that it might help if she had a job to do, Somewhere to channel the nervousness. So you ask her to hold the compress while you get more aloe vera. She rushes to Mr. Honey Bee's aid and then gets a better idea. Oh, Get some honey from the jar, Little Honey Bee. It's the most powerful antibacterial substance on the planet. Well, I don't know about that, But it works. It's the least I can do. Wait, No. I'll get some fresh honey. The worker bees just delivered a new batch of pollen from the other side of the neighborhood. It's a new, Even more powerful honey. I'll go grab it. You take the cold compress back from Melody Bee before she flutters away and try to create a more calm scenario for her to return to. Take another slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Bring your awareness to the steady rhythm of your heart beating once, Twice, Three times. Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and use that exhale as a cone of calm over all of us in the backyard. Here, I got it. Fresh from the hive. There's even some of the pollen sprinkled on top for extra strength. Whoa there. That's quite the concentration of pollen. That must be some good honey. Is it too strong? No, Don't. Oh goodness, It's tickling my nose. All of us proceed to sneeze until our noses are cleared of pollen and that's when we notice the sparkle drain from Melody Bee's eyes. She sits on the ground with her head hung low, Devoid of any hope. You sit down beside her with little sneezes still lingering in your nose. You are all allergic to me. I'm going to have to Spain. The desert. I'll live in the desert, Far away, So I cannot hurt any of my favorite people. Feeling all of her guilt and sadness at once, She puts on her honey harvesting suit as a barrier and comes back to help Mr. Honey Bee however she can. First, She slathers fresh honey, Free of excess pollen, On his stings. Then she cycles out the cold compresses, Which have become warm. While in the kitchen, She gets a big pot of angel hair pasta going on the stove so she can make him one of his favorite meals. She comes back out with even more ideas, Saying he should come inside to rest and relax. We all stay by Mr. Honey Bee's side to be there if he needs anything. Before he can sit down on the couch, She fluffs the pillows. She gets him a big cold glass of ice and fills it to the brim with iced tea. Wow, I should get stung more often. This is the royal treatment. Don't say that, Mr. Honey Bee. This will never happen again. With his feet elevated, His favorite movie on, A cold beverage in his non-stung hand, And his favorite dinner on the way, Mr. Honey Bee is luxuriating in being surrounded by his people. Melody Bee gently reapplies aloe vera and replenishes the iced tea while I get to work on the pasta, Which has come to a boil. You and Melody Bee stay by Mr. Honey Bee on the couch to make sure he's okay, And Harold does his part by jumping up onto his lap. He gives a few laser-like puppy kisses directly to the stings like a pup doctor, Then curls up on Mr. Honey Bee's lap for an afternoon snooze. Melody Bee washes herself clean of all pollen, Then gradually takes off her honey-collecting suit, Because with all that she's doing, She's getting too hot. You remind her that she's doing as much as she can, And we're all here to help as well. Those are exactly the words she needs to hear, And with them, She can finally settle into her spot next to Mr. Honey Bee, Holding the last cold compress on his hand. Enjoying the newfound calm, You take another slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel your chest and your spirits lift hearing Mr. Honey Bee laugh at his favorite part in his favorite movie, Assured that your friend is going to be okay. Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth, And join him in the laughter, Saying the lines you two have memorized at the same exact time. Well, Would you look at that! Mr. Honey Bee, The swelling has gone down, And the redness has faded. I think you're going to make a full recovery. Thanks to my wonderful nursing team! You come over to help me with the pasta, While Melody Bee, Harold, And Mr. Honey Bee continue watching the movie. Our backs are turned, Getting plates and utensils and the finishing ingredients, But we can hear and feel that the joy and ease of spending time together has returned. Just before it's time to serve dinner, We notice that it's quiet over on the couch as the credits roll on the movie. We turn around to see that both Mr. Honey Bee and Melody Bee have fallen asleep. Melody Bee slumped over in perfect slumber, Leaning on Mr. Honey Bee's side, Which she refused to leave all day. We smile quietly to ourselves, Letting them nap just a little longer. It goes to show that one of the hazards we as creatures live permanently alongside is the risk of hurting even those we're closest to. Sometimes we hurt people because we are so close, Like Melody Bee today. But if there's anything we've learned from this adventure, It's that just as we can hurt each other in the little and big ways creatures do, However accidental, We can also care for each other in the little ways and big ways that matter most. We can do everything in our power to repair the hurt and diminish the harm using all the love we have in our hearts. After all, That's what makes friendship the absolute joy that it is and continues to be through all the laughs, Struggles, And beastings. 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 observing the clouds and seeing. . . Hey, Wait, What's that? What is that up there? Whoa, Is it floating down toward us? Is that a big, Giant mushroom in the sky? It looks like a parachute, Maybe? It's so high up, It's hard to tell. Grab your binocs, Mr. Honey Bee. Melody Bee, Does everything have to be abbreviated? Time is precious, And abbreviations are fun and useful. Grab the binocs, Mr. Honey Bee, So we can see what's attached to the para. Oh, Melody Bee, Though I am curious to see what that is, Too. Okay, Mr. Honey Bee, Grab your binoculars so we can see what's attached to that parachute. We need your binocs to see the para. I'll be right back. Then we can figure out what that is. 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 to our bright-colored front door. As you raise your hand to knock, A sudden thunderclap rings out. You look back, And we open the door just in time to see a zap of lightning flash through the sky. Whoa! Did you see that, My little Honey Bee? This morning it was perfectly sunny and clear out. The weather cannot make up its mind, So it had to do a little of both. Like when you can't decide which book to read next, Or what dinner to make. You read a little bit of this book, And a little of that. And you make both pasta and soup. The best of both worlds, Right, Little Honey Bee? Another clap of thunder interrupts our musings, And we turn to look out for the lightning, Counting how long it takes before it appears. After getting all the way to 21, We decide that the lightning isn't going to strike after all, And we finally welcome you into our house. As you come in, Harold bolts out right under our feet. Zooming between us, He runs out to the grass, Barking at the sky as if to beckon the lightning. You tell that sky, Harold. Let the weather know how you feel. We're kidding around about Harold, But he seems serious in his endeavors. So we join him outside, Huddled around him, Looking up. At first, We see nothing. But then, The lightning we were waiting for finally strikes. We clap and cheer for the marvels of the sky, And look down to see Harold was not waiting for the lightning. He has locked eyes with something else. When we look back up, We finally see what Harold sees. A floating package, A brown cardboard box strapped to a small parachute and falling straight towards us from airplane height. What is that? It looks like a parachuting box. Box? I know branches fly. Our branches do at least. But do boxes fly now too? I can confirm that they don't. My last shipment of lumber that was sent to the beavers at the hardware store was stalled for two whole weeks. If boxes could fly, That one could have flown here faster. No, This one seems special. Like it's flying directly to us. Like it's for us. Talk about special delivery. It's starting so high up. Should we try to catch it? We should, Right? What if it doesn't land gently and whatever's inside breaks? We should definitely try to catch it. But falling from that high? It could be a bumpy landing. Dear, Can you go get my little rebounder trampoline I use while I write? It's in my office, Leaning against the wall by my writing desk. Oh, Good idea. Maybe you can rebound off of that. Then we can catch it on the second, Hopefully gentler impact. I'll go grab it. Mr. Honeybee comes back with the miniature trampoline that I bounce on to help me think when I'm stuck in a story. Together, We line it up to where the mysterious box is parachuting in and do the quick calculus in our heads as to where it will bounce. Take a slow, Deep breath into your nose. Allow the fresh air to clear your mind so you can focus on this catch. Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and plant both feet into the ground with your eyes on the rebounder waiting for our moment. Here it comes. Yes, Is everyone ready? It's coming fast. Look, I think something's wrong with the parachute. The parachute suffered a puncture on its way down, And now it's falling heavy straight towards the rebounder. Since it's coming so quickly, We all skedaddle out of the way, Letting it fall as it may. The package with the broken parachute whooshes by us, Bounces off the rebounder, And spins itself silly flying back up into the sky before it bounces in the same exact spot again on the rebounder. At this point, The package is unpredictable, And we use one mind trying our best to slow it down. The box continues its lopsided bounces on the rebounder as whatever is inside the package flops between the four cardboard walls. With one final bounce, The box finally arrives and crash lands in the grass. At first, The box stands dented but perfectly still. Harold bravely approaches Snout first to get a sense of what could have possibly traveled to us this way. I don't hear anything inside, Do you? I did, While it was bouncing. Something was clearly inside and throwing its weight around while it bounced. That's why it was so hard to catch. Harold sniffed the perimeter in smaller and smaller concentric circles until convinced that whatever is inside will stay in there. The last time we got a package this mysterious, It had acorns in it, Remember? We planted our very own electrified oak tree. Of course I remember. That was such a special thing for us to do. The tree planting ceremony was absolutely beautiful. Acorns are tiny. Could this be a box full of acorns this time? Harold approaches with less caution now, Which quickly backfires when whatever was lying silently in the box bursts forth with a response. So you did get my acorn. Barry Beaver, It's you. In the fur, It's me. With a bit of a cranium headache, I must admit. Ouch. I was promised a smooth landing. We tried, Barry. We tried. Not to worry, I will take it up with the winds and the beaver boys back home. Leave it to beavers to build a flight plan. Ha! I could have helped, Barry. We have a new fleet of worker bees testing out their range. I could have sent a caravan or something. Are you okay? Yes, I'm okay. It'll take more than a crash landing and a little tussle to take Barry Beaver down. As if to scoff at his hubris, Nature itself giggled with thunder and sent Barry to the ground, Flattened out, Trying his best to be invisible in the trimmed grass. You and I each grab a paw to help him back up, Assuring him that it was just thunder and warning that lightning will come soon, Most likely. The commotion woke Roger Robot up from his power cycle, So he opened the garage to make sure everything is okay. Having never heard a garage door before, Barry Beaver again collapsed down into the grass, Flattened like a pancake with his paws over the back of his head. Is everything okay out there? Why is there a beaver taking cover in our front yard? I cannot take a single nap around here, Can I? What have you all gotten into? Recognizing Roger's voice, Barry peeks out from under his paws and smiles big when he sees his friend. He jumps to his feet and then leaps over to Roger Robot for a big hug. It's not a beaver, Roger. It's me, Barry Beaver. Brother Barry! Hey! Roger and Barry are long-time friends that have bonded over their shared love of problem-solving and sharp edges. Roger Robot checks out Barry Beaver's chompers with each visit to ensure their strength and even modeled his multifunctional tool hands after them. After their embrace, Barry smiles big and Roger shows him the scissor hands he's made in their honor. Never cease to amaze me, Brother Roger. Did you get my gigantic pile of census cards? Yup. Mr. Honeybee and I had to invent a counter just to process them. But we did. Just finished last week. Excellent, Excellent. Wow. It's so great to catch up with everyone. Ha! I should parachute in more often. Or, You know, Swim down the river. Beavers are excellent at that, Right? Any good beaver loves him some options. It's so nice to see you, Barry. What brings you here to us? And how'd you get in a box? With a parachute? Oh, That's an easy one. A flying fish, Of course. Barry Beaver goes on to explain that a group of flying fish were passing by the Hodgepodge Lodge recently and a few of the beavers, Staying overnight, Got a couple of ideas about how they could fly themselves. Barry, Being one of those beavers, Tried everything the flying fish suggested to make his stubby front paws into graceful, Angel-like wings. When nothing worked and the flying fish were due on their way, They supplied him with a parachute that they gave baby fly fishes when they're learning to launch. The lodge beavers and I did the rest of the work, Packing me into the box and securing us to the parachute, And ta-da! Here I am! Oh, And I wanted to ask, You got the acorns I sent, Right? We sure did, Barry. We planted one at the heart center of the Honey Bee neighborhood, Up on that hill over there, And the other viable seed we're making into a bonsai oak tree because it likes to stay in the greenhouse and grow smaller. Neato! So, About both of those trees, They're different. I hate to break it to you. You're telling me. Yes, Exactly, I am telling you. I'll say it more clearly, Do not trust them. Those acorns, Or anything that grows from them, Don't trust them, Not one bit. They have vines of their own. I buried the acorn, Right? And then the tree grew up, Full of branches. We gnawed a few off, And wherever we put it, We came back to find everything around it charred to a crisp. I inspected it with my close, Careful eye, And before I knew it, I was launched on the branch itself, And not on purpose. The flying fish had to wrangle me down, Wrestle me away from the branch. We have a few of the branches in the Hodge Podge Lodge that have to be tied down with bungee cord. We cannot tell which oak tree branches are from that tree until they go haywire with lightning. I've developed quite an unpleasant reaction to lightning. Those acorns are something else, I'll tell ya. Our branches fly too. Well, After being struck by lightning, That is. You fly on them? Geniuses! We do. They're so much fun, Once you get the hang of them. A qualitatively different experience than flying on a shooting star, But much less danger of running into black holes, Which I prefer. Well, My friends, You can fly your branches on over to the Hodge Podge Lodge any time. That sounds wonderful, Barry. We absolutely will. What about right now? Now as in right. . . Right now? Now is the only real time there is, You know? Everything else is a figment of imagination. Yes, Of course, Right now now. Not in any imagination time. Now now. Pretty please, There's a terrible emergency, Which is, Incidentally, Why I'm here. What? Really? It's been an emergency this whole time? Oh yeah, A bad one. Why didn't you open with that? Well, I did, Kinda. But there's something so special about the catch-up, You know? Seeing friends you haven't seen in a while, Catching up on all you've missed. I couldn't just skip that part. Keep it together, Bear Bear. You're a strong beaver. So, Did I miss anything? How are you all? Barry, Tell us what's wrong. What's the emergency? Oh, Okay, My turn to talk. Well, Things aren't great, I will say that. Do we need to intervene? Has there been an invasion? An invasion? No, Not that I know of. What? What happened? So you know those special branches you all fly on, Oh so whimsically? Yes? Well, We used others as structure support for the Hodgepodge Lodge, And as the name suggests, They are quite structurally needed and also quite turbulent. Not a good combo. Is there a fast-forward button? Barry, Can I fast-forward through this? Oh, Oh, Yes. We recently expanded the lodge. It's nearly double the size since you saw it last. A bit slower, Barry. Okay, Here it is. We recently expanded the lodge. It's nearly double the size since you saw it last. Well, A handful of our guests have reported zappings, And yesterday two branches flew straight up into the sky, Right out of their structural place after lightning. It's affecting the hospitality. Our guests are terrified, Aren't getting a wink of sleep. And trust me, You do not want to see wayward beavers on but a wink of sleep. Vicious. We have all the leftover Hodgepodge we can muster holding it up right now, But I could really use a hand or one, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six. That's four more from Harold. That makes ten. Wow, We got a lot of hands over here. Before Barry Beaver can count Roger's hands, He transforms his two hands into twelve. Plus, Wow, Twelve. That's. . . I need a hand or twenty-two, Please. You have just the right amount I need. Of course we can help, Barry. What do you need? Mostly a plan, And then for that plan to help the Hodgepodge Lodge not collapse on all of our guests. Hmm, Lightning seems to be the main issue. Specifically, How these branches react to the lightning. A mitigation is needed. We certainly cannot stop the lightning from coming. Darn, That was the plan I brought to the table. Is that not possible? Not possible, My friend. Tall buildings and umbrellas would have been on that already if it was possible. Okay, I hear you. And though it is a tough truth to swallow, I accept it. Do we by chance have another plan? Roger is on to something with the buildings. I am? Oh, I am. Surely I am. We need a lightning rod. Oh, Those metal things on top of tall buildings? Exactly. That way, The lightning will strike the lightning rod instead of the Hodgepodge Lodge. It's perfect. I can call in a favor with the beavers down at the hardware store. They'll love this project. Oh, Good. That's good. You'd think we beavers would be best buds, But they don't much appreciate my style. What with their measuring and exactness. That's not the Hodgepodge way. We're more of a. . . Hodgepodge? You could say that, Yes. It tends to leave us in these urgent predicaments more than I care to admit in this here urgent predicament. By that, Do you mean emergencies? Yes, You could say that, Yes. We need to update your urgency settings, My friend. Please do. With our plan in place, We rush into Mr. Honeybee's garage and meet around the workbench where he takes out each of the tools we'll need, One by one. He gives us each our part to play in this urgent predicament and we dutifully go about it. You're in charge of helping him unpack the miniature induction furnace which will be used to melt the metal. Mr. Honeybee explains that metal is needed specifically because it's an excellent conductor of electricity which lightning is made out of. The induction furnace is stowed away under his workbench and it's much heavier than it looks. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose and strengthen each of your muscles as you lift the furnace with Mr. Honeybee using your strong legs. Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth to stabilize the furnace on its special table and let your muscles be soft and squishy to relax. Once on, We make sure it's at the right temperature to work with copper because that is the easiest metal to melt and is an excellent conduit. The beavers arrive at the garage to deliver enough copper for our lightning rod and a little or a lot extra just in case we want to make a fancy one for Barry. They walk by, Narrowing their suspicious eyes at him having dealt with these predicaments of his many times before. Hey, We'll catch up later I guess. Bye guys. It takes all 22 of our hands in our protective gear to make Barry Beaver the simplest, Most efficient lightning rod we could. Once it cools, We hold up the long straight lightning rod and Barry seems underwhelmed at best. Is this the base? No, Barry, This is your lightning rod. This? Doesn't it need some pizzazz? Pizzazz in an emergency? Listen to this guy. Since this will rest atop the hodgepodge lodge indefinitely, We understand Barry's attention to detail that's focused on the smallest picture possible in this scenario. We each proceed to make him a shape of our own. Melody B creates a heart, I make two beaver teeth as a symbol for the lightning rod, And Mr. Honeybee makes a lightning bolt with a cloud. What extra decorative shape do you make for Barry Beaver's lightning rod, My little Honeybee? When we're all done with our shapes, We now have a collection of copper shapes that have no natural coherence. That is, Until Roger Robot reveals his addition, A gigantic dragon roaring up to the sky. The lightning rod dragon will hold the heart, Have two long beaver teeth in its mouth, And will be under the lightning bolt with the cloud. You soldering your shape on as the most perfect final touch. It's gorgeous! Now, This is a hodgepodge lodge lightning rod. Okay, Gotta go. Just as quickly and chaotically as he appeared, Barry Beaver left in the direction of the Honey River. We got word that he arrived just in time to install the lightning rod before the next thunderclap brought its lingering lightning. The hodgepodge lodge has been saved until the next urgent predicament. 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 visiting the garden to see all the flowers that have bloomed this year. Oh, Melody Bee. Oh, Melody Bee. Buzz is not Melody Bee. You can refer to me as the GTG, Garden Tour Guide. Actually, This might be a little difficult. There are so many flowers and plants. Is there such a thing as too many flowers? Nonsense. That's nonsense. There's certainly no such thing as too many flowers, But it is a little hard to maneuver through all of them. Did I just hear the whistle? Is the garden tour starting soon? Yes, Mr. Honeybee. Melody Bee, Um. . . I mean the GTG just announced. It's almost time for our garden tour to begin. All aboard! I'm going to grab my hat. Then I'll be ready. Mrs. Honeybee, Please tell the GTG that I'll BRB. Be right back. 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 our driveway on a beautifully sunny day, Walking the last few steps up to our porch. Before you lift your hand to knock, The bright sunshine pulls your attention, And you take a moment to enjoy the moment. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel your chest and your spirits lift higher and higher towards the sun, Raising you up to meet it. Then, Slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth, And turn back around just as Melody Bee and I open the door. Oh, Hello my little Honeybee. I didn't hear you knock. Neither did Harold. We must have a special connection. I knew without knowing that you were out here and decided to come out the front door. You must, Because usually on farmer's market days, We go through the backyard for a stroll through the forest. But today, You wanted to walk this way. Aww, What a special connection. Hugging our hellos, Harold finally wakes up from his nap, Still groggy and slow moving. As he slowly makes his way over to us, I hand you and Melody Bee some tote bags we will need at the market. Come on, Harold. Our little Honeybee is here. And today is the farmer's market. Come on, Boy. You finally get the Harold greeting you're used to and scoop him up in your arms for plenty of puppy kisses as we head out the door. When we walk this way to the farmer's market, We pass by the Pupple Park, Which is Harold's favorite. And then we simply follow the Honey River until we arrive. And we always know the instant we arrive because the most delicious aromas fill the air. You hold Harold's leash with one hand and let the other dangle by your side before Melody Bee comes up beside you and links her arm in yours. Together, We enjoy an afternoon stroll in the sunshine until Harold senses that we're close to the Pupple Park. Then he begins to pull the leash with all his might and you need to hold it with both hands. As we walk by the fence, Harold jumps up with both paws to greet his friends. We wave everyone hello and goodbye, Waiting now to come upon the Honey River. When we do, The sparkling water takes our breath away so we get it back with intention. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the coolness of the fresh air coming in through your nose, Finding its way to your lungs, And expanding your chest out. Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and hook into the flow of the river. We stroll along its banks on a pathway that was created for us to do so, Picking up dandelions that have muscled their way through the gravel. You and I trade dandelions and the wishes they contain until we can finally smell the market getting close. The bountiful farm stands of fresh flowers, Fruits, And vegetables send their scents wafting on the breeze to us. The crafters and makers out with their homemade candles and wares have their smiles on, Ready to show us the results of their hard work. We've finally arrived at the farmer's market. Don't you just love it here? I sure do. I've met so many good friends here and learned a lot, Too. Oh, That's true. This is where I met one of the beavers at the hardware store. He had some rare lumber selections that I heard him over-talking about. I made the bench in the meditation garden out of that, And the rest is history. That was such a lovely Valentine's Day gift, My dear. I'm glad you liked it, Even if you were privy to my surprise. It's the effort and thought that count, And I appreciated those so much more than it being a surprise. Good, Because you're notoriously difficult to surprise, Mrs. Honeybee. I don't know how you do it. It's a gift. I'll get you with a surprise one day, Mrs. Honeybee. Just you wait. The farmer's market is bustling with people from far and wide who gather here each week to see the selection of fresh fruits and vegetables and homemade bread loaves, Soaps, Candles, And just about everything you can think of. First up is the apple orchard farm stand. Harold sniffs out his favorite apple, A bright pink one, And jumps two paws up on the low table to beg for one with his eyes. Harold, Do you want one of these pink apples? What about a green one? Pink it is. As long as we're careful to cut the core and seeds out, Apples are one of Harold's favorite snacks. Mine too. Hmm. I'll take three honey crisp apples, Please. Oh, And one of these pink ones for the pup. We stash our apples in our tote bags that hang off our shoulders, Which, For now, Are still light enough to carry that way, Though we trust that we will find so much quality produce that we'll end up dragging our bags behind us all the way home. We always forget to bring our little wagon. Harold loves to ride in it when his little legs get tired, And that's a much better way to carry our tote bags than my tired shoulder. Remind us next time, My little honey bee. I'm sure we'll be back soon enough. A sudden rustle gets our attention as we walk, And we look over to see a farmer carrying long branches full of brussel sprouts that look like little spheres of green. We pile some of those, Some onions, Carrots, And yellow potatoes into our tote bags and begin to shift them back and forth between shoulders to distribute the heavy weight. When our tote bags are filled up with a month's worth of meals and snacks, We finally come to Melody Bee's favorite part, The flower section. She walks valiantly up to the center of the flower section with her arms outstretched and dramatically shouts to the sun. I'll take one of everything, Please. She cannot resist the orchids, Nor the ferns. She must give the spider plants a home and. . . Oh, Look, The peonies are in season, And they're pink. She fills her arms with bundles of flowers, Arranging bouquets for different occasions in her head before she arranges them for neighbors on the way home. When she's exhausted herself and all of us thoroughly, She settles onto Harold's back for a piggyback ride and muses to herself. Imagine being surrounded by blooming flowers all day long, Flowers that come from far and wide just to bloom near you, And then imagine arranging them and giving them away and making marvelous displays of them. Oh, And then imagine harvesting their seeds for centuries so no one will ever forget the beautiful specimens that existed in our time. Would those harvested seeds be heirloom? Precisely, Mrs. Honey Bee. I want to collect and catalog every single seed that's ever been created. Doesn't that all sound lovely? It sounds like you want to have a flower shop, Melody Bee. Great idea, My dear. That's exactly what it sounds like. A what? What, What, What? A flower what? Speak slowly because my brain is overwhelmed. It sounded like you said flower shop. That's what I said. What is that? There are shops with flowers in them? And florists who arrange all the flowers into bouquets, And farmers who harvest all the flowers and probably the seeds. That's a thing, Melody Bee. I have so many flowers already. Between the garden at the house, The community garden, The neighbor's gardens I tend. So many. I struggle to give them all away and to find homes for them to be enjoyed while they're in bloom. It sounds like all you need is a shop. Oh, Now that I think about it, There's a brick building downtown that just opened up. That could be all yours. That could be all yours, And it's right by the Honey Bee gift shop. Let's go now. Show me the way. Melody Bee buzzes away, Full of enthusiasm, Before we can even show her where the building is. We zoom back home, Trying to keep up with her wings and drop the groceries off before heading downtown to see the building. It's everything Melody Bee imagined it would be, And she places both of her hands on the glass to close her eyes and imagine what this place would look like full of flowers. Visualization is important, You know. We, With big, Strong imaginations, Of course, Know this to be true. So we take a moment to pause with Melody Bee and visualize this for our friend. Our minds, Being the meaning-making machines they are, Naturally bounce around ideas of our own that need to be visualized as well. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose until you cannot take in any more air. Imagine what it would look like for you to achieve one of your most deeply held goals. Hold it in for a quick second, Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and put your visualization out into the breeze for the great mysteries of the cosmos to start churning away at. Melody Bee's nose is pressed against the glass, Deep in visualization, But suddenly she whips around with conviction. I should start with a farmer's market stand, And if that does well, Then flower shop it is. Back home, It's all hands on deck, Including Roger Robot, Who was rudely awakened mid-power cycle. Melody Bee bursts into a small corner cubby in the garage with the excitement of a firecracker. Roger, There's no time to sleep. Come on, We need your help. What? Huh? Whoa! It takes us days and days to gather all the flowers and plants that Melody Bee needs to fill up her stand. She diligently prunes off cuttings of certain plants and starts them in their own pots to share at the farmer's market. You wade through the sea of blooming flowers in all of the gardens she tends, Inspecting each bloom to find and collect the best ones, Which you snip and dump in a vase of water. By the time the next farmer's market comes around, We're ready. Mr. Honey Bee has set up a pulley system to deliver more and more flowers and plants should we sell out, And Roger Robot turned out to be quite the floral arranger. I haven't yet identified what precisely it is, But it's as if the flowers can tell me what arrangement they want to be in. The flowers speak. I've never heard you talk like that, Roger Robot. That's beautiful. It is. And it's true. About time you caught on. Melody Bee and I take off to the market to get there well before it opens. Mr. Honey Bee and Roger stay in the garden to load up the pulley when needed. And you, My dear Honey Bee, Will be in charge of riding the pulley system with the flowers to make sure they don't get swept up in the wind. Hopping up into the woven wooden basket that looks a lot like the bottom of a hot air balloon, You accept the first shipment of extra flowers since Melody Bee has already depleted what she brought. You slowly inch across the sky, Dangling with the flowers under a zip line until you arrive at the farmer's market with us. Hordes of people are waiting for their flowers, The prettiest flowers they've ever seen. Melody Bee chats with each visitor about how to keep the blooms blooming the longest and what herbal tinctures can be made after they're done blooming. If we weren't convinced before, We are now. Melody Bee needs a flower shop. It takes all of us working long days to fill up the little brick building with flowers, Plants, Herbal remedies, And heirloom seeds, But we're able to do what we set our minds to, And the results are spectacular. Everywhere you look, There's a beautiful flower and an ecstatic Melody Bee. The day of its grand opening, She hands you the comically large scissors to cut the red ribbon. And the rest is history. The Honey Bee Flower Shop is a fixture in the neighborhood. It has since expanded to a plant triage center where people bring sick plants for Melody Bee to help heal. Plants that are unidentifiable because they've never bloomed suddenly show their petals and receive their names. Flower owners from all over come to sift through the growing catalog of seeds that Melody Bee has collected over her long career of pollinating. This is a wonderful community place that you sometimes visit just to be around the flowers, Even when Melody Bee isn't here, Because, Of course, You have the one and only spare key. Though we have to be constantly vigilant of Harold taking big chomps out of the plants, We have set up a catnip garden out front of the shop with a water bowl beside it for our visitors and passerbys alike. You might not have guessed it, But catnip might as well be called dognip. Harold is sure to keep the sprigs perfectly pruned in their boxes. Always remember, Mrs. Honey Bee believes in you. You are special, And you are loved. I can't wait to see you again. Today, In the Honey Bee neighborhood, Mr. Honey Bee will be revealing his latest invention. I'm so excited! Give us a hint! Give us a hint! Well, This invention is very powerful and makes big things small. And tiny things grander than my size. I think it's best if I just show you. Sit tight for a moment. I'll be right back. 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 to our open garage where you see Mr. Honey Bee and his trusted sidekick, Roger Robot, Huddled over one of the workbenches. My little Honey Bee, You're here! Look, Look what Roger Robot and I are finishing up. It's almost perfect. It's a shrink ray. Just think of all the things we can shrink. We can pack this in our mountain biking backpack, And if a bear comes on a bit too strong, Bam, Shrunken. Need to carry something heavy? No, You don't. Bam, Shrunken. This is a game changer. Maybe a world changer. World, You say? Hmm, Could I shrink the world? What did you say, Roger? Nothing, Nothing. Is the lamp on securely? It looks kind of wobbly. Oh, Good eye, Roger Robot. It just needs to be tightened. Here, My little Honey Bee, Can you grab my socket wrench from the top drawer? You look down to see Mr. Honey Bee's red tool chest with aluminum plating and pull the smallest right-hand top drawer. Oh, No, The other one. Sorry. Inside the left-hand drawer, You find a plethora of metal wrenches, Some big, Some small, Mixed in with socket wrenches of varying sizes and shapes. You look back up to the shrink ray sitting on the workbench to figure out what size will fit best. If you didn't know this was a shrink ray, You would think it was a desk lamp with a miniature satellite where the light bulk should be. Studying the contraption closer, You focus in on the contraption and sift through all the tools for the right one to hand to Mr. Honey Bee. Just a couple, And we're done. Mark this prototype off your list, Roger. This one is officially functional and ready for action. Roger that, Mr. Honey Bee. Mr. Honey Bee goes in the house to collect things to shrink while Roger Robot wheels over to a wall of computers that sits in the corner of Mr. Honey Bee's garage by his cubby. Only one of the screens is on, The biggest one in the center, But it's blacked out with only neon green text visible. Roger Robot scrolls down a long list with impossibly quick keyboard clicks until he finds one specific word he was looking for and checks it off. With a few more clicks, He moves a report of information over to a different screen. This one filled with pictures, An experimental notebook documenting the prototyping process. You lean on the back of the chair that sits in front of the screens and ask him a few questions about what you see as he continues to click around. Roger Robot explains that this is a log of all the prototypes he and Mr. Honey Bee are working on. When they finish one, It moves into an expansion phase of testing it out as much as possible. This gives them data on how to improve the design or potentially generate ideas for new prototypes. Mr. Honey Bee and Roger Robot are experts at this process. It's one of their favorite things to do in general, But also their most favorite thing to do together. Harold and Melody Bee come rushing through the screen door Mr. Honey Bee left open. When they hear your voice talking with Roger Robot, They clobber you with hugs and hellos, And Harold jumps up into your arms for puppy kisses to your cheek as you try to again focus on the screen in front of you. Roger Robot wheels back to the workbench, Allowing you and Harold to sit on the chair in front of the big center screen, Which Harold wants less than nothing to do with. He wiggles free and winds beneath your feet before joining Roger Robot at the workbench. With confident hands, Roger inspects the shrink ray to make sure its power switch is in the off position. Then he proceeds to wheel around in quick circles, Like he's engaging a sudden enemy army that is approaching from all angles. Zap! Whoosh! Zap! Zap! Zap! Zap! Not today! You're getting shrunk! Shrunken? Shrank? Shrunk? I think it's shrunken, Because it's an adjective. Adjective smagitive. Zap! Whoosh! Zap! Zap! Zap! Zap! No more grammar corrections, Melody Bee. You're shrunk. Shrunk-en. I'm shrunk-en. And I also think you shouldn't be playing around with that, Roger. If anyone is qualified to play around with this, It's me, The robot. Zap! Whoosh! Zap! Roger Robot, Stop shrinking me! Melody Bee ducks and buzzes to avoid her pretend shrinking, And Roger Robot wheels in fast circles in pursuit, Darting from corner to corner in the garage. Roger, Stop! I'm sufficiently shrunk-ed. I mean shrunk-en. Stop! Zap! Here's a shrink for you, Little honeybee. And for you, Harold. Zap! Zap! Even a pretend shrinking awakened Harold's play instinct, Which he pounced with the vigor that matched Roger Robot. Together, They twirled and leaped, Evading oncoming enemies, And shrunk them when they were suspecting it. Melody Bee, Meanwhile, Takes cover behind one of your shoulders, Yanking your shirt with her tiny hands to peek over at them every so often. They really should be more careful with it, Huh, Little honeybee? Should I go get Mr. — Before she can finish her sentence, Harold leaps up into the air with all of his might, Snouts blazing at an invisible enemy. Whoa! Whoa! No! No! Harold! In Harold's mind, He has taken over the pretend fight from his team member and is ambushing a combative enemy. He darts through the garage using all the speed his little fluffy legs can muster. You leap into action, Knowing with certainty that it's not good for Harold to be running wild with this specific prototype. When you, Melody Bee, And Roger begin chasing him to retrieve the shrink ray, He seamlessly transitions to a game of chase and then a tug-of-war, Which is his favorite. You and Roger Robot are holding onto the base of the desk lamp while Harold has clamped onto the opposite side, The worst possible one for him to clamp onto, The shrink ray side. Melody Bee tries to wrangle him and calls for me and Mr. Honey Bee to come help. Mr. Honey Bee! Harold! No! Leave it! Mrs. Honey — Harold gets one last burst of energy and uses it to spring back up into the air with the force of his hind legs. The shrink ray follows him up, Spinning in wired circles, Before landing right back in his snout, This time much closer to the power switch. He continues to run around the garage, Satisfied with himself that he has not yet been caught. Harold, I command you to stop! Harold, No! Mr. Honey Bee hears Melody first and storms down the stairs with his arms full of household items that he wants to experimentally shrink. Hearing faint sounds of commotion downstairs and Mr. Honey Bee's rushed footsteps, I poke my head out of my writing office and make sure everything and everyone is okay. Dear, Is everything all right? Why are you running? And what are you doing with my sewing machine? Everything better be okay. I should have put it away. What's going on out here? I couldn't hear you, My dear. What was that? Mr. Honey Bee? Certain that something is amiss, I follow Mr. Honey Bee downstairs and locate the source of the commotion in the garage. Just as I step through this suspiciously open door, Melody Bee exclaims, Mrs. Honey Bee, Hide! Hide? Why would I. . . Making eye contact with Melody Bee and then you, I see a look of horror come across your faces that, At first, I don't understand. That is, Until you both grow bigger and bigger as I shrink to the size of an ant on the garage floor. Knowing nothing about the prototype that was just completed today, I look around in a panic, Trying to understand what's happening. Everything in the garage that is usually proportionately sized to me is suddenly gargantuan. From down here on the concrete floor, Dodging actual ants left and right, The garage I know so well has become monstrous. I take off running on my microscopic legs for the first cover I see, A flake of chipped paint on the baseboards of the wall. Ducking for cover, Still very confused, I hear Mr. Honey Bee's tiny voice calling out to me. Mrs. Honey Bee, Mrs. Oh, Man, These ants just won't move, Will they? Mrs. Honey Bee, Can you hear me? I'm coming for you, My dear. Mr. Honey Bee, I hear you. What happened to us? Once Mr. Honey Bee makes his way through the line of ants, He joins me under the cover of a single paint chip, Peeking out from behind it to monitor the situation in the garage. We do our best to stand flattened against the wall to avoid being stomped by Harold's now huge paws while he darts around the garage. Wow, I really need to repaint the trim out here, Don't I? Dear, What's happening? It seems that Harold got his snout on the shrink ray. Mr. Honey Bee interrupts his sentence to duck us both back behind the paint chip as Harold runs by with the shrink ray dangling from a stray wire in his mouth. Paralyzed by the chaos as it unfolds, Roger Robot does a quick calculus of the possible ways the situation will play out. He projected this mind map onto the backs of his eyelids to keep the probabilities straight, And thus, With his eyes closed, Did not realize that both Mr. Honey Bee and I were shrunken. Assuming that Harold has terrible aim, Roger Robot gives his normal-sized shape a big hug in an effort to keep it and slowly wheels himself backward into his cubby, Trying his best not to draw Harold's frantic attention. Melody Bee, On the other hand, Is valiantly making the situation worse by chasing Harold, Whipping wildly back and forth, Keeping her buzz on his tail with a fiery gusto. Not responding to any of Melody Bee's many commands, Harold finally drops the shrink ray like a deflated toy and sprawls out panting on the garage floor. Melody Bee tiptoes over to him so as not to rile him back up and swoops the shrink ray into her arms, Cursing its very existence. She locates what she assumes is the power switch and frantically pushes all the buttons and levers and switches she sees. The shrink ray is too heavy for her to hold, So she angrily flutters over it while kicking it out of the garage, Hoping to rid us of it completely. With one final kick over the threshold of the garage, She uses all of her might to launch it away from her, Not realizing it is still very much on. Take that! Melody Bee kicks so hard that her legs kept going up above her head and twirled her backward into an accidental backflip. Confused and with impossibly perfect aim, The force of the kick pushes all the right buttons to launch a ray right at her. Had she not been upside down, She may have seen the ray coming, But before she could right herself from her flip and take cover, She was zapped with a ray that doubled, Tripled, Quadrupled her size. Melody Bee kept growing and growing as if she was a squishy balloon that could hold an infinite amount of air. When finally done growing, Standing on stick-skinny legs, Melody Bee could no longer fit inside the garage. Well, We're shrunken, My dear. Harold shrunk us. But Melody Bee. . . Expanded? Still splayed out on the garage floor, A curious new scent grabs hold of Harold's attention. He suddenly remembers hearing our voices, But now he cannot see neither Mr. Honey Bee nor I in our shrunken state. He gets up to his feet to follow the scent. Taking it all in, You pause before you follow him, Careful to not activate his strong play instinct once more. 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 your chest out. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and very slowly follow Harold to where he apologetically sniffs us out from our hiding place under the flaking paint of the baseboard. Little Honey Bee, Can you see us? We're down here. Right here, My little Honey Bee. Here. My, Am I glad to see you. It's okay, Boy. You didn't mean to shrink us. It's another quick zap and bam! We're a regular size and good as new. From outside the garage, A greatly inflated Melody Bee does not share in Mr. Honey Bee's optimism, Mostly because she cannot hear his tiny voice or much of anything happening inside the garage she can no longer fit in. Roger? Harold? Little Honey Bee? I'm sure you can see me. I need. . . Seeing all the destruction, His playful romp has caused, Harold's sad eyes droop down to the cold, Concrete floor as he melts into a pile of regret and sorrow. Mr. Honey Bee and I walk up to pet his snout, Which stands taller than we do, Off the ground. Taken by a sense of responsibility, Harold perks up before you can make your way to him. Step by step, Trying not to excite him further. He then reaches down and grabs both Mr. Honey Bee and I by the scruffs of our shirts. You reach out your hands to silently signal exactly how careful you want Harold to be with us, Dangling from his mouth, Before he delivers us to you like a proud, Loving mama pup. Harold gently deposits Mr. Honey Bee and I into the palm of your cupped hands and we wobble, Trying to find our footing. My little Honey Bee, You should see yourself right now. Wowza! You look like a superhero. You came to our rescue. Of course, You're a superhero. Hi there, My big Honey Bee. I care not about how big you are. You will always be our little Honey Bee. Right, My dear? Right. Well, We've found ourselves dropped into the middle of quite a mission, Haven't we? Listen carefully. I'll tell you exactly how to operate the shrink ray. You hold your cupped hands up to your ear to hear Mr. Honey Bee better so you can follow his directions step by step. Shouting as loud as he can, Mr. Honey Bee first instructs you to put Harold inside the house, Just in case. Shifting your hands around to free one of them up, You call Harold into the house and close the door behind him, Making sure that it's latched. Then, When the coast is clear, Mr. Honey Bee instructs you to carefully approach the shrink ray because it's obviously still on and in the opposite gear to expand whatever it comes in contact with. Closing your hand around us, You take careful steps toward the device, Cautious of any number of things that could possibly go wrong, Expected and unexpected. You take your first couple steps just as you hear Roger Robot's cubby door open and see Roger blast out toward the shrink ray. Not today. With laser-like precision and an actual laser, Roger Robot aimed another device at the shrink ray that sat beside Melody Bee's inflated foot. Ow! That almost. . . What was that? Roger? Is anyone going to help me? No more from you, Shrink ray. Consider yourself out of commission. Frightened by Roger Robot's unexpected charge, You instinctively recoil, Shielding your face with your forearm and close Mr. Honey Bee and I up in your hand in the process. Once quiet, You lower your defenses and both of us to see Roger roll proudly away, Thinking he has saved the day. That's when you see the shrink ray sizzle and shrivel up to a crisp, Taking our way back to normal size right along with it. What happened? What was that? I can't see beyond your index finger, My little Honey Bee. You look down to realize that you closed us up in your hand and relax your fingers to show us what you see. Oh, No. Is that the shrink ray? Please tell me you have multiples, My dear. That's not usually how prototypes work. This is in the testing phase. It's the only one. Roger hears our faint, Tiny voices from across the garage but cannot place them. Roger what, Mr. Honey Bee? I cannot hear you. Why are you whispering? Mrs. Honey Bee, I do not. . . Roger, I cannot hear you. Why are you hiding? Are you speaking through an intercom? Roger, We're over here. We're shrunken, Perhaps for good. Don't say that, Mr. Honey Bee. We'll figure this out. We always do. Realizing what he's done, The one outcome he did not find a statistically significant probability for, Roger Robot swiftly loses his marbles, Which also send Melody Bee into a panic. Gripping his head with his hands, Grasping for his hard drive that was so wrong, He wonders and pleads with the infinite multiverse as to how this was possible. He rolls right around Melody Bee in circles around her feet, Just enough for her to see he's panicking. And if there's anything Melody Bee knows, It's that if Roger is panicking, She should be panicking because Roger Robot knows everything. How? What's wrong? Is everything wrong? Everything feels wrong. Everything will be just fine, Roger and Melody Bee. We'll figure this out. And what if we don't? What if I'm inflated like this forever? I'll crush a flower before I pollinate it. What will my life become? You do me the enormous favor of holding your hand up to Melody Bee as high as you can so I can remind her about future tripping, Tripping over the hypothetical future concerns of future you. Doing that has never helped a single person, Especially not you in the future. Remembering our long conversations about that in the garden, She calms down a bit. With me and Mr. Honey Bee in one hand, You grab hold of Roger's arm before it can do another panicking circle around the garage and stop him in his tracks, Both physically and mentally. Together in a new, Unexpected situation, But still together, Which is how we are strongest, We bring our attention back to our breath, The most steady thing we have besides our hearts and our friendship. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose, For 4, 3, 2, 1. Hold your breath for 4, 3, 2, 1. Then slowly breathe out for 4, 3, 2, 1. And let lungs rest empty for 4, 3, 2, 1, Before drawing your next slowed-down breath of inspiration. Roger. How is this possible? I just can't. Roger, Listen. What? What? I'm listening. How did I miss this? Listen to me. If we built this once, We can build it again. Who is better at this than us? And look, Now we have help. Mrs. Honeybee and her little Honeybee are here, And Melody Bee over there is gigantic. That has to come in handy at some point. I heard that, And I politely request to not be this size anymore, No matter how handy. Please help? That's true. That's true. We're builders. What can't we build or fix? Let's do this, Team. Together, We go to the workbench and get right to work. You set us down so Mr. Honeybee can better show you and Roger Robot what you need to do. All is going well at first. It's a little difficult to hear him, But we make do in this new situation. Through a makeshift megaphone, Mr. Honeybee tells us where all the tools we'll need are, What materials we'll need, And Roger Robot prints the builder's manual with his printer arm for reference. Everything is going great. Our spirits are up, And Melody Bee has gotten somewhat accustomed to being gigantic. Things are looking up, And so are we. We're all huddled around the workbench as you give Mr. Honeybee a boost on your hand so he can get up to the very top cabinet right above it. He's sure he put extra electrical wiring up there, But it's going to be tucked away. We all watch and listen as he jumps his tiny feet up onto the shelf and rummages about. He makes his way to the back of the shelf, Rearranging everything in his path until suddenly he falls through an old termite hole he never repaired. We can only listen as he clunks against each shelf and everything on it on his way down, Falling from shelf to shelf in the cabinet. Standing on the workbench directly below the cabinet, I run to the edge to try to break his fall, And both you and Roger Robot are with me. When Mr. Honeybee falls down from the cabinet, I reach up my tiny hands for him, But we both get swept by the breeze of his fall and become wedged between the wall and the back of the workbench that is bolted to it. Melody Bee hears our exclamations but cannot do anything about it at her size. Everyone okay? Someone respond to me. I cannot get in there to see. Mrs. Honeybee. Harold tells her that we're stuck and they both become emboldened to help in any way they can. Her outside the garage and him from in the house. You and Roger Robot are plenty of help inside the garage, Trying everything you can see as a tool to hoist us out of the workbench wedge. When Harold hears how distressed we are, He realizes he has no choice but to burst through the screen door with all of his might. On his third attempt, When he rips through the screen, He immediately does what he does best, Give slobbery puppy kisses. Three big swipes of his slobbery tongue wiggle us out and fling us into the air. You reach out to catch me and Roger Robot catches Mr. Honeybee just in time. We turn back to check on Melody Bee but realize that she's no longer there. Forgetting our prototyping mission for a moment, We go out to the driveway to see where she is, Knowing that she couldn't get far without us being able to spot her. Out on the driveway, We look in both directions for as far as we can see, But we don't see an oversized bee anywhere. Where did she go? Did she shrink spontaneously? If that's possible, I give up on science altogether. No, I will faint, And if she spontaneously shrunk, I will faint. Someone, Please catch me. She had to have gone somewhere. Do check the ground in case she did shrink spontaneously. Huh? Is that possible? I feel woozy. Buzz, Buzz, Buzz. Is that. . . Is that her? It's me. Tiny old little regular bee-sized me. Oh, Catch me. I'm fainting. Roger, It's okay. It takes both you and Melody Bee to catch Roger, Who only fainted a little. Melody Bee's transformation makes perfect sense and restores his deeply held assurances as soon as he hears it. I remembered I had a sprinkle of transformation pollen in the backyard. Just a sprinkle, Though. I used the minimum amount to make me regular-sized again. Oh, Oh, Your transformation pollen. Perfect. That makes perfect sense. Seems awfully inefficient to not have your transformation pollen abilities downloaded onto your hard drive, But that's a different issue. We're okay, Everyone. We're okay. Well, Much more transformation pollen. That's fine. We just need to transform the two of us back to regular size. About that. You mean there's not enough for both me and Mr. Honey Bee? I'm sorry. It takes about a month to ripen and harvest. What are we going to do? It's no worry. I can stay tiny for a month. This is kind of nice, You know? I can make the most of it, Like a vacation. You cannot stay tiny on your own, My dear. I'll stay tiny. You go back to regular size. Mr. Honey Bee and I go back and forth, Sacrificing ourselves to shrunkenness for the other. You and Melody Bee and Harold all look like you're watching a tennis match with your heads looking back and forth following the conversation. Instead of this indecision, Roger Robot deposits Mr. Honey Bee in Melody Bee's hand to continue the contest and wheels off to actually save the day. Taking a bet on the remainder of the transformation pollen, He picks it up along with the charred shrink ray and brings it back to the group. I can only transform things with wills of their own, Which clearly this thing no longer has. But if we have enough of this pollen to transform it, We can restore its function, Right? All of us, But especially Melody Bee, Think carefully about the proposal. Yes, That should work. Great idea, Roger! Transformation pollen wakes up even the most inert molecules and convinces them of their capacity to create change deep within themselves. This should work! Roger Robot sprinkles the transformation pollen onto the charred shrink ray and together we activate it with the silent, Restorative wishes that live deep in our hearts. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the sensation of your heart beating full of wishes once, Twice, Three times. Then, Slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and marvel as the shrink ray slowly reclaims its color and then its power. You place us on a cleared away portion of the garage floor and prepare to shrink ray us back to regular size on the count of one, Two, Three. I knew you could! We hug our hellos in a huddled group as if we were just reunited after a long time apart. Before too long, And definitely before he forgets, Again, Mr. Honey Bee stashes the shrink ray, His most powerful prototype yet, Away in a place that Roger Robot doesn't even know. You can tell me, Mr. Honey Bee. Come on, It was Harold that caused this. Yes, It was. Mr. Honey Bee, Where's the shrink ray? Come on. No chance, Roger Robot. No chance. 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, Mr. Honey Bee will be revealing his latest invention. I'm so excited. Give us a hint. Well, This invention is very powerful and makes big things small. And tiny things grander than my size. I think it's best if I just show you. Sit tight for a moment. I'll be right back. 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. Roger Robot here. This is a special two-part story. Make sure to listen to part two next month. Well, Depending on when you're listening to this, You might already be able to listen to part two. You humans have a funny way of measuring time. Anyways, In this two-part story, I might have done. . . Well, I did something that wasn't great. So that thing I did made the story a bit longer. And better, And better, And longer. But definitely better. So be sure to set your antenna to tune in to part two. Or, If you don't have antennas, I'm sure there's plenty of time to get some. Gotta zoom. You are here, Walking up the driveway to our open garage, Where you see Mr. Honey Bee and his trusted sidekick, Roger Robot, Huddled over one of the workbenches. My little Honey Bee, You're here. Look. Look what Roger Robot and I are finishing up. It's almost perfect. It's a shrink ray. Just think of all the things we can shrink. We can pack this in our mountain biking backpack. And if a bear comes on a bit too strong, Bam, Shrunken. Need to carry something heavy? No, You don't. Bam, Shrunken. This is a game-changer. Maybe a world-changer. World, You say? Hmm, Could I shrink the world? What did you say, Roger? Nothing, Nothing. Is the lamp on securely? It looks kind of wobbly. Oh, Good eye, Roger Robot. It just needs to be tightened. Here, My little Honey Bee, Can you grab my socket wrench from the top drawer? You look down to see Mr. Honey Bee's red tool chest with aluminum plating and pull the smallest right-hand top drawer. Oh, No, The other one. Sorry. Inside the left-hand drawer, You find a plethora of metal wrenches, Some big, Some small, Mixed in with socket wrenches of varying sizes and shapes. You look back up to the shrink ray sitting on the workbench to figure out what size will fit best. If you didn't know this was a shrink ray, You would think it was a desk lamp with a miniature satellite where the light bulb should be. Studying the contraption closer, You focus in on the contraption and sift through all the tools for the right one to hand to Mr. Honey Bee. Just a couple. And we're done. Mark this prototype off your list, Roger. This one is officially functional and ready for action. Roger that, Mr. Honey Bee. Mr. Honey Bee goes in the house to collect things to shrink while Roger Robot wheels over to a wall of computers that sits in the corner of Mr. Honey Bee's garage by his cubby. Only one of the screens is on, The biggest one in the center, But it's blacked out with only neon green text visible. Roger Robot scrolls down a long list with impossibly quick keyboard clicks until he finds one specific word he was looking for and checks it off. With a few more clicks, He moves a report of information over to a different screen, This one filled with pictures, An experimental notebook documenting the prototyping process. You lean on the back of the chair that sits in front of the screens and ask him a few questions about what you see as he continues to click around. Roger Robot explains that this is a log of all the prototypes he and Mr. Honey Bee are working on. When they finish one, It moves into an expansion phase of testing it out as much as possible. This gives them data on how to improve the design or potentially generate ideas for new prototypes. Mr. Honey Bee and Roger Robot are experts at this process. It's one of their favorite things to do in general, But also their most favorite thing to do together. Donzo, Now, What will I shrink first? Harold and Melody Bee come rushing through the screen door Mr. Honey Bee left open when they hear your voice talking with Roger Robot. They clobber you with hugs and hellos and Harold jumps up into your arms for puppy kisses to your cheek as you try to again focus on the screen in front of you. Roger Robot wheels back to the workbench allowing you and Harold to sit on the chair in front of the big center screen which Harold wants less than nothing to do with. He wiggles free and winds beneath your feet before joining Roger Robot at the workbench. With confident hands, Roger inspects the shrink ray to make sure its power switch is in the off position. Then he proceeds to wheel around in quick circles like he's engaging a sudden enemy army that is approaching from all angles. Zap! Zap! Zap! Zap! Zap! Not today! You're getting shrunk! Shrunken? Shrank? Shrunk? I think it's shrunken because it's an adjective. Adjective smagitive. Zap! Zap! Zap! Zap! Zap! No more grammar corrections, Melody Bee. You're shrunk. Shrunk-en. I'm shrunk-en. And I also think you shouldn't be playing around with that, Roger. If anyone is qualified to play around with this, It's me, The robot. Zap! Zap! Roger Robot, Stop shrinking me. Melody Bee ducks and buzzes to avoid her pretend shrinking. And Roger Robot wheels in vast circles in pursuit, Darting from corner to corner in the garage. Roger, Stop! I'm sufficiently shrunked. I mean shrunken. Stop! Zap! Here's a shrink for you, Little Honey Bee. And for you, Harold. Zap! Zap! Even a pretend shrinking awakened Harold's play instinct, Which he pounced with the vigor that matched Roger Robot. Together, They twirled and leaped, Evading oncoming enemies and shrunk them when they were suspecting it. Melody Bee, Meanwhile, Takes cover behind one of your shoulders, Yanking your shirt with her tiny hands to peek over at them every so often. They really should be more careful with it, Huh, Little Honey Bee? Should I go get Mr. Zap! Zap! Before she can finish her sentence, Harold leaps up into the air with all of his might, Snouts blazing at an invisible enemy. Whoa! Whoa! No! No! In Harold's mind, He has taken over the pretend fight from his team member and is ambushing a combative enemy. He darts through the garage using all the speed his little fluffy legs can muster. You leap into action, Knowing with certainty that it's not good for Harold to be running wild with this specific prototype. When you, Melody Bee, And Roger begin chasing him to retrieve the shrink ray, He seamlessly transitions to a game of chase and then a tug-of-war, Which is his favorite. You and Roger Robot are holding onto the base of the desk lamp while Harold has clamped onto the opposite side, The worst possible one for him to clamp onto, The shrink ray side. Melody Bee tries to wrangle him and calls for me and Mr. Honey Bee to come help. Mr. Honey Bee! Harold! No! Leave it! Harold gets one last burst of energy and uses it to spring back up into the air with the force of his hind legs. The shrink ray follows him up, Spinning in wired circles before landing right back in his snout, This time much closer to the power switch. He continues to run around the garage, Satisfied with himself that he has not yet been caught. Harold, I command you to stop! Harold, No! Mr. Honey Bee hears Melody first and storms down the stairs with his arms full of household items that he wants to experimentally shrink. Hearing faint sounds of commotion downstairs and Mr. Honey Bee's rushed footsteps, I poke my head out of my writing office and make sure everything and everyone is okay. Dear, Is everything all right? Why are you running? And what are you doing with my sewing machine? Everything better be okay. I should have put it away. What's going on out here? I couldn't hear you, My dear. What was that? Mr. Honey Bee? Certain that something is amiss, I follow Mr. Honey Bee downstairs and locate the source of the commotion in the garage. Just as I step through this suspiciously open door, Melody Bee exclaims, Mrs. Honey Bee, Hide! Hide? Why would I? Making eye contact with Melody Bee and then you, I see a look of horror come across your faces that, At first, I don't understand. That is, Until you both grow bigger and bigger as I shrink to the size of an ant on the garage floor. Always remember, Mrs. Honey Bee believes in you. You are special and you are loved. I can't wait to see you again. Roger Robot here. This is part two of a special story called Honey, I Shrunk Mrs. Honey Bee. I might have done a thing that may have had some consequences that we are currently dealing with. In part one of this story, Where we left off, Everyone's favorite robot, That's me, Was being a little less than conscientious. Some would say reckless. I wouldn't, Though some others would. Others like Mrs. And Mr. Honey Bee, Who are a very small fraction of their usual size. They would probably say I was being a bit reckless, But fine, Fine, I admit it. I shrunk them, I shrunk them both. They're tiny. My fingers are not situated in such a way that I can cross them. But please, Please cross your fingers and hope against hope that they return their typical size. We got this, Little Honey Bee, We got this. Right? Don't worry, Though, Don't worry. This is just a tiny problem. Emphasis on tiny. Teeny tiny. Ugh. Anyways, If you have not listened to part one of this story, Check directly below in this podcast to see how we got into this mess. Knowing nothing about the prototype that was just completed today, I look around in a panic, Trying to understand what's happening. Everything in the garage that is usually proportionately sized to me is suddenly gargantuan. From down here on the concrete floor, Dodging actual ants left and right, The garage I know so well has become monstrous. I take off running on my microscopic legs for the first cover I see, A flake of chipped paint on the baseboards of the wall. Ducking for cover, Still very confused, I hear Mr. Honey Bee's tiny voice calling out to me. Mrs. Honey Bee, Mrs. . . Oh, Man! These ants just won't move, Will they? Mrs. Honey Bee, Can you hear me? I'm coming for you, My dear. Mr. Honey Bee? I hear you. What happened to us? Once Mr. Honey Bee makes his way through the line of ants, He joins me under the cover of a single paint chip, Peeking out from behind it to monitor the situation in the garage. We do our best to stand flattened against the wall to avoid being stomped by Harold's now huge paws while he darts around the garage. Wow! I really need to repaint the trim out here, Don't I? Dear! What's happening? It seems that Harold got his snout on the shrink ray. Mr. Honey Bee interrupts his sentence to duck us both back behind the paint chip as Harold runs by with the shrink ray dangling from a stray wire in his mouth. Paralyzed by the chaos as it unfolds, Roger Robot does a quick calculus of the possible ways the situation will play out. He projected this mind map onto the backs of his eyelids to keep the probabilities straight and thus, With his eyes closed, Did not realize that both Mr. Honey Bee and I were shrunken. Assuming that Harold has terrible aim, Roger Robot gives his normal-sized shape a big hug in an effort to keep it and slowly wheels himself backward into his cubby, Trying his best not to draw Harold's frantic attention. Melody Bee, On the other hand, Is valiantly making the situation worse by chasing Harold, Whipping wildly back and forth, Keeping her buzz on his tail with a fiery gusto. Not responding to any of Melody Bee's many commands, Harold finally drops the shrink ray like a deflated toy and sprawls out panting on the garage floor. Melody Bee tiptoes over to him so as not to rile him back up and swoops the shrink ray into her arms, Cursing its very existence. She locates what she assumes is the power switch and frantically pushes all the buttons and levers and switches she sees. The shrink ray is too heavy for her to hold, So she angrily flutters over it while kicking it out of the garage, Hoping to rid us of it completely. With one final kick over the threshold of the garage, She uses all of her might to launch it away from her, Not realizing it is still very much on. Take that! Melody Bee kicks so hard that her legs kept going up above her head and twirled her backward into an accidental backflip. Confused and with impossibly perfect aim, The force of the kick pushes all the right buttons to launch a ray right at her. Had she not been upside down, She may have seen the ray coming, But before she could right herself from her flip and take cover, She was zapped with a ray that doubled, Tripled, Quadrupled her size. Melody Bee kept growing and growing as if she was a squishy balloon that could hold an infinite amount of air. When finally done growing, Standing on stick-skinny legs, Melody Bee could no longer fit inside the garage. Well, We're shrunken, My dear. Harold shrunk us, But Melody Bee. . . Expanded? Still splayed out on the garage floor, A curious new scent grabs hold of Harold's attention. He suddenly remembers hearing our voices, But now he cannot see neither Mr. Honey Bee nor I in our shrunken state. He gets up to his feet to follow the scent. Taking it all in, You pause before you follow him, Careful to not activate his strong play instinct once more. 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 your chest out. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and very slowly follow Harold to where he apologetically sniffs us out from our hiding place under the flaking paint of the baseboard. Little Honey Bee, Can you see us? We're down here. Right here, My little Honey Bee. Here. My, Am I glad to see you. It's okay, Boy. You didn't mean to shrink us. It's another quick zap and bam. We're regular-sized and good as new. From outside the garage, A greatly inflated Melody Bee does not share in Mr. Honey Bee's optimism, Mostly because she cannot hear his tiny voice or much of anything happening inside the garage she can no longer fit in. Roger? Harold? Little Honey Bee? I'm sure you can see me. I. . . Seeing all the destruction his playful romp has caused, Harold's sad eyes droop down to the cold, Concrete floor as he melts into a pile of regret and sorrow. Mr. Honey Bee and I walk up to pet his snout, Which stands taller than we do off the ground. Taken by a sense of responsibility, Harold perks up before you can make your way to him, Step by step, Trying not to excite him further. He then reaches down and grabs both Mr. Honey Bee and I by the scruffs of our shirts. You reach out your hands to silently signal exactly how careful you want Harold to be with us, Dangling from his mouth, Before he delivers us to you like a proud, Loving mama pup. Harold gently deposits Mr. Honey Bee and I into the palm of your cupped hands, And we wobble, Trying to find our footing. My little Honey Bee, You should see yourself right now. Wowza! You look like a superhero. You came to our rescue. Of course, You're a superhero. Hi there, My big Honey Bee. I care not about how big you are. You will always be our little Honey Bee. Right, My dear? Right. Well, We've found ourselves dropped into the middle of quite a mission, Haven't we? Listen carefully. I'll tell you exactly how to operate the shrink ray. You hold your cupped hands up to your ear to hear Mr. Honey Bee better so you can follow his directions step by step. Shouting as loud as he can, Mr. Honey Bee first instructs you to put Harold inside the house, Just in case. Shifting your hands around to free one of them up, You call Harold into the house and close the door behind him, Making sure that it's latched. Then, When the coast is clear, Mr. Honey Bee instructs you to carefully approach the shrink ray because it's obviously still on and in the opposite gear to expand whatever it comes in contact with. Closing your hand around us, You take careful steps toward the device, Cautious of any number of things that could possibly go wrong, Expected and unexpected. You take your first couple steps just as you hear Roger Robot's cubby door open and see Roger blast out toward the shrink ray. Not today. With laser-like precision and an actual laser, Roger Robot aimed another device at the shrink ray that sat beside Melody Bee's inflated foot. Ow! That almost. . . Is anyone gonna help me? No more from you, Shrink ray. Consider yourself out of commission. Frightened by Roger Robot's unexpected charge, You instinctively recoil, Shielding your face with your forearm and close Mr. Honey Bee and I up in your hand in the process. Once quiet, You lower your defenses and both of us to see Roger roll proudly away, Thinking he has saved the day. That's when you see the shrink ray sizzle and shrivel up to a crisp, Taking our way back to normal size right along with it. What happened? What was that? I can't see beyond your index finger, My little Honey Bee. You look down to realize that you closed us up in your hand and relaxed your fingers to show us what you see. Oh, No. Is that the shrink ray? Please tell me you have multiples, My dear. That's not usually how prototypes work. This is in the testing phase. It's the only one. Roger hears our faint, Tiny voices from across the garage but cannot place them. Roger what, Mr. Honey Bee? I cannot hear you. Why are you whispering? Mrs. Honey Bee, I do not. . . Roger, I cannot hear you. Why are you hiding? Are you speaking through an intercom? Roger, We're over here. We're shrunken, Perhaps for good. Don't say that, Mr. Honey Bee. We'll figure this out. We always do. Realizing what he's done, The one outcome he did not find a statistically significant probability for, Roger Robot swiftly loses his marbles, Which also send Melody Bee into a panic. Gripping his head with his hands, Grasping for his hard drive that was so wrong, He wonders and pleads with the infinite multiverse as to how this was possible. He rolls right around Melody Bee in circles around her feet, Just enough for her to see he's panicking. And if there's anything Melody Bee knows, It's that if Roger is panicking, She should be panicking, Because Roger Robot knows everything. How? What's wrong? Is everything wrong? Everything feels wrong. Everything will be just fine, Roger and Melody Bee. We'll figure this out. And what if we don't? What if I'm inflated like this forever? I'll crush a flower before I pollinate it. What will my life become? You do me the enormous favor of holding your hand up to Melody Bee as high as you can, So I can remind her about future tripping. Tripping over the hypothetical future concerns of future you. Doing that has never helped a single person, Especially not you in the future. Remembering our long conversations about that in the garden, She calms down a bit. With me and Mr. Honey Bee in one hand, You grab hold of Roger's arm before it can do another panicking circle around the garage and stop him in his tracks, Both physically and mentally. Together in a new, Unexpected situation, But still together, Which is how we are strongest, We bring our attention back to our breath, The most steady thing we have besides our hearts and our friendship. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose for 4, 3, 2, 1. Hold your breath for 4, 3, 2, 1. Then slowly breathe out for 4, 3, 2, 1. And let lungs rest empty for 4, 3, 2, 1 before drawing your next slowed-down breath of inspiration. Roger. How is this possible? I just can't. Roger, Listen. What? What? What? I'm listening. How did I miss this? Listen to me. If we built this once, We can build it again. Who is better at this than us? And look, Now we have help. Mrs. Honey Bee and our little Honey Bee are here, And Melody Bee over there is gigantic. That has to come in handy at some point. I heard that, And I politely request to not be this size anymore, No matter how handy. Please help. That's true. We're builders. What can't we build or fix? Let's do this, Team. Together, We go to the workbench and get right to work. You set us down so Mr. Honey Bee can better show you and Roger Robot what you need to do. All is going well at first. It's a little difficult to hear him, But we make do in this new situation. Through a makeshift megaphone, Mr. Honey Bee tells us where all the tools we'll need are, What materials we'll need, And Roger Robot prints the builder's manual with his printer arm for reference. Everything is going great. Our spirits are up, And Melody Bee has gotten somewhat accustomed to being gigantic. Things are looking up, And so are we. We're all huddled around the workbench as you give Mr. Honey Bee a boost on your hand so he can get up to the very top cabinet right above it. He's sure he put extra electrical wiring up there, But it's going to be tucked away. We all watch and listen as he jumps his tiny feet up onto the shelf and rummages about. He makes his way to the back of the shelf, Rearranging everything in his path until suddenly he falls through an old termite hole he never repaired. We can only listen as he clunks against each shelf and everything on it on his way down, Falling from shelf to shelf in the cabinet. Standing on the workbench directly below the cabinet, I run to the edge to try to break his fall, And both you and Roger Robot are with me. When Mr. Honey Bee falls down from the cabinet, I reach up my tiny hands for him, But we both get swept by the breeze of his fall and become wedged between the wall and the back of the workbench that is bolted to it. Melody Bee hears our exclamations but cannot do anything about it at her size. Harold tells her that we're stuck and they both become emboldened to help in any way they can, Her outside the garage and him from in the house. You and Roger Robot are plenty of help inside the garage, Trying everything you can see as a tool to hoist us out of the workbench wedge. When Harold hears how distressed we are, He realizes he has no choice but to burst through the screen door with all of his might. On his third attempt, When he rips through the screen, He immediately does what he does best, Give slobbery puppy kisses. Three big swipes of his slobbery tongue wiggle us out and fling us into the air. You reach out to catch me and Roger Robot catches Mr. Honey Bee just in time. We turn back to check on Melody Bee but realize that she's no longer there. Forgetting our prototyping mission for a moment, We go out to the driveway to see where she is, Knowing that she couldn't get far without us being able to spot her. Out on the driveway, We look in both directions for as far as we can see, But we don't see an oversized bee anywhere. Where did she go? Did she shrink spontaneously? If that's possible, I give up on science altogether. No, I will faint. And if she spontaneously shrunk, I will faint. Someone, Please catch me. She had to have gone somewhere. Do check the ground in case she did shrink spontaneously. Huh? Is that possible? I feel woozy. Buzz, Buzz, Buzz. Is that. . . Is that her? Oh, Catch me. I'm fainting. Roger, It's okay. It takes both you and Melody Bee to catch Roger, Who only fainted a little. Melody Bee's transformation makes perfect sense and restores his deeply held assurances as soon as he hears it. I remembered I had a sprinkle of transformation pollen in the backyard. Just a sprinkle, Though. I used the minimum amount to make me regular-sized again. Oh, Oh, Your transformation pollen. Perfect. That makes perfect sense. We're okay, Everyone. We're okay. Welch more transformation pollen. That's fine. We just need to transform the two of us back to regular size. About that. . . You mean there's not enough for both me and Mr. Honey Bee? I'm sorry. It takes about a month to ripen and harvest. What are we going to do? It's no worry. I can stay tiny for a month. This is kind of nice, You know? I can make the most of it, Like. . . Like a vacation. You cannot stay tiny on your own, My dear. I'll stay tiny. You go back to regular size. Mr. Honey Bee and I go back and forth, Sacrificing ourselves to shrunkenness for the other. You and Melody Bee and Harold all look like you're watching a tennis match with your heads looking back and forth following the conversation. Instead of this indecision, Roger Robot deposits Mr. Honey Bee in Melody Bee's hand to continue the contest and wheels off to actually save the day. Taking a bet on the remainder of the transformation pollen, He picks it up along with the charred shrink ray and brings it back to the group. I can only transform things with wills of their own, Which, Clearly, This thing no longer has. But if we have enough of this pollen to transform it, We can restore its function, Right? All of us, But especially Melody Bee, Think carefully about the proposal. Yes, That should work. Great idea, Roger! Transformation pollen wakes up even the most inert molecules and convinces them of their capacity to create change deep within themselves. This should work! Roger Robot sprinkles the transformation pollen onto the charred shrink ray, And together, We activate it with the silent, Restorative wishes that live deep in our hearts. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the sensation of your heart beating, Full of wishes, Once, Twice, Three times. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and marvel as the shrink ray slowly reclaims its color and then its power. You place us on a cleared-away portion of the garage floor and prepare to shrink ray us back to regular size on the count of one, Two, Three. You did it, My little honeybee! I knew you could! We hug our hellos in a huddled group as if we were just reunited after a long time apart. Before too long, And definitely before he forgets, Again, Mr. Honeybee stashes the shrink ray, His most powerful prototype yet, Away in a place that Roger Robot doesn't even know. You can tell me, Mr. Honeybee. Come on, It was Harold that caused this. Yes, It was. Mr. Honeybee, Where's the shrink ray? Come on. No chance, Roger Robot. No chance. 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 an adventure into a new world made of chalk. Have you ever drawn with chalk before? I love chalk. With a little magic, Anything that we draw can come to life. Right, Mrs. Honeybee? That's right, Melody Bee. We can go anywhere in Chalk World. We're only limited by our imagination. Hmm, What about. . . Whoa! That's a beautiful flower, Melody Bee. But why would you want to visit a flower? You're a bee. You visit flowers every day. I love flowers. It was the first thing I thought of. Here, I'll make a few adjustments. Oh, A bouquet of flowers? Aww, Is that for me? Yes, Mrs. Honeybee. You are so sweet, Melody Bee. Thank you, My dear. For this adventure, We're going to be thinking a little bit bigger than flowers. I've got a special idea in mind. 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 down the sidewalk to our house. The sun is shining down on this beautiful afternoon. 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. You notice yourself looking down at your feet as you walk today. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. Along the way, Under your footsteps, You see something unusual. First, A big yellow happy face with a winking eye. After that, You see a galloping purple unicorn with a rainbow mane and sparkly boots for its hooves. The closer you get to our driveway, The more intricate the images become until you get all the way to our front porch where you can hear Mr. Honeybee and Melody Bee in the backyard. Melody Bee, Can you please hold the other side of the tape measure? About here? Or is that too big for the squashes? You said zucchini likes to spread out with big leaves, Right? Oh yeah, Definitely. Zucchini leaves are so big that they conceal the squash from birds and other hungry friends. Then, This seems like plenty of room. You peek your eyes over the fence and jump up to wave your hand so that they can see you, But they don't. You're taken by surprise when I open the wooden gate. Hello, My little Honeybee. Did you see all our chalk art on the driveway? Mr. Honeybee, Melody Bee, Harold, Our little Honeybee's here. Hello, My little Honeybee. Here's a piece of chalk. Like always, We need your help. Hi! We've learned this afternoon that I am not the best creature to help draw a straight line. I'm excellent at hexagons, But straight lines? No way! Can you help us draw the outlines for our new garden boxes? The zucchini are almost ready to be transplanted. You walk all the way to the garden before Harold finally wakes up from his nap in the sun. When he sees you, He rushes over to you for pets and kisses. He's always so happy to see you, Just like we are. With Harold at your feet, You walk over to the patch of grass where the garden boxes will go and help Mr. Honeybee trace out a perfectly straight line that will form the edge. While you're doing that, Melody Bee is over in the sandy soil where she grows succulents, Drawing something of her own. Look at this! I drew us a new friend. I call her Rosie. She's a rose, But with hands and feet and a big smile. Rosie lives in a rose garden that lost its color, But because she's so bright and smiley and happy, She brings the color right back. Oh, Hello Rosie. It's nice to meet you. We're the honeybees. Here, Let's see what I can draw. Mr. Honeybee grabs as many colors as he can hold in two hands, Then gets to work. First, He draws a circle for a head with a little yellow antenna at the top. He draws another circle for feet because this friend rolls everywhere he needs to go. He draws a little red heart in the center of his belly. Mr. Honeybee finishes the details of a robot he's just about finished prototyping. The chalk he used has ground down to stumps against the sandy soil. When Mr. Honeybee finishes drawing, He stands back to present a new friend. I call him Roger. Roger Robot. Roger that. Mr. Honeybee wipes the palm of his hands together, And clouds of chalk dust fill the air, Surrounding us like fog. When the dust settles, We look around to see who said that, But don't see anyone. We look back at the chalk drawing of the robot, Roger Robot, And see that he's changed positions. Now he's waving and is turned around, With his back facing us, As if rolling away. Whoa! Did Roger Robot just come to life? Well, The chalk version of him did, Somehow. But he seems to have rolled away. Roger, Come back! I just need a few more pieces, And your prototype should be finished. Can you help? We look down at the chalk-drawn robot, Which is laying perfectly still on the sandy soil. A light breeze kicks up and blows his antenna away into the garden. Aww. Bye for now, Roger. I'm sure you'll figure out how to bring Roger to life, Mr. Honeybee. You're a tinkerer extraordinaire. Maybe Roger went into the mysterious chalk world. Oh, I know that one. It's the world that waits in the palm of our hands, And beneath our feet. We see them all over the Honeybee neighborhood. You try, Mrs. Honeybee. Take us somewhere far, Far away. Hmm. I think I can think something up. I pick up some of the chalk and hand some for you to help. All that's left in big, Usable pieces is the white chalk. What can we do with white? We get right to work on a new chalk wonderland, And when we finish, We stand up to reveal a lifelike drawing of all four of us standing in a cloud world, Surrounded by clouds and stars that we cannot see, But know they are there. We wipe our palms together to get the chalk dust off of them, And once again, Chalk dust surrounds us like a fog. Before we realize what happened, We look down to see that we are now standing on puffy white clouds. But they don't look like regular clouds. They're the chalky clouds that we drew. Not only are we standing on them, But we can jump and twirl, Too. That's when we realize that we aren't quite ourselves. Now we're chalk people with colorful, Chalky outlines. Mrs. Honeybee, My dear, Did you forget to draw my ear? Look, I only have one. I'm so sorry, Mr. Honeybee. Here, Let me draw you another one. I reach out and begin drawing Mr. Honeybee an ear, But not just any ear. He will now have one giant, Floppy elephant ear that has an earring. Um, Well, I guess this works. Ooh, I'd eat some ears. You can't really see mine. Will you help me draw ears for Melody Bee, My little honeybee? Together, We draw Melody Bee two bunny ears on the top of her head. Hey, Look at these. Wait, I don't know how bunnies do this. These get in the way of my antenna. All I'm going to pick up is static now. Where do bunnies keep their antennas? I don't think bunnies have antennas, Melody Bee. Sure they do. They're probably just hidden, Like my ears. Where are we going to go next? I have my ears on. I'm ready for anything. Oh, I know. The chalk version of Mr. Honeybee begins to draw, But hides what he's drawing from us, So it's a surprise. While we wait, We jump and play in the chalk clouds that are just as soft and puffy as real clouds. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel your chest expand out round, Making more and more room for your breath. Then, Slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth. You can jump up high into the sky from the cloud and bounce like you're on a trampoline. The three of us hold our chalky hands out to form a circle, Then jump as high as we can. While we're floating, Mr. Honeybee finishes his chalk drawing. Instead of dropping back down into the puffy chalk cloud, We drop down onto a gigantic castle on a grassy hill surrounded by a moat. We land on the roof of the castle and run over to the wall to peek over. When we look down, That's where Mr. Honeybee presents the dragon protector he drew. This is Sizzle the Sizzler. Sizzle the Sizzler immediately shows us why she's named that and lets out a fiery roar. She alone is in charge of protecting us and this castle up on the hill. On the opposite wall, There's an old door. We creak it open, Wondering where it leads. Because it's so dark, Melody Bee draws us a single candle on a tiny golden plate so we can walk down the stairs slowly, Watching our step. Right foot, Left foot, Right foot, Left foot. When we get to the bottom of the spiral stairs, We open two humongous doors onto a luxurious palace that is fit for royalty. We look out the window and see Sizzle diligently protecting us, But on the other side of the castle, We see our horses. Mr. Honeybee thought we could have some fun today, So he also drew us to be knights in shining armor. Armor appears plate by plate and fortifies you in this chalky castle world. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose and strengthen every single one of your muscles. Feel how strong you are as a knight in shining armor. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and let your body be squishy in your armor. Our horses approach the door as we walk out to their stables. I quickly draw us some carrots to offer our hungry horses before we take off on a knightly mission to rescue a prince and a princess who have been tricked by a devious forest fairy. We ride our chalky horses through the forest, Jumping over streams and fallen trees. When we get to the pit where the princess and prince are stuck, We dismount our horses and pull them out. They are so grateful to be saved. They think we deserve to relax after such an important mission. So the prince and princess take some chalk and draw us something special. An island paradise with plenty of sunshine and crystal blue water. When they finish the drawing and wipe their palms together, The chalk dust surrounds us like a cloud and we're off into another world before we can even wave goodbye. We land in the sand and enjoy the warm sunshine on our faces. As the waves roll in and crash on the sandy shore, We prop ourselves up on our elbows and realize that we miss our furry friend, Harold. Adventures are so much more fun with him around. How can we get out of the chalk world once we're in it? Hmm, That's a good question. I guess we should have figured that out first. Oh, I think I know how. I get right to work drawing all of us back in the garden in the honeybee neighborhood where Harold should be waiting for us. In the blink of an eye, We land back on the grassy ground where the new garden boxes will go. The straight line is still drawn out on the grass and by now the wind has swept away the other chalky friends. Harold is so excited we're back. Since we had so much fun today, We refresh our chalk and set out to cover the neighborhood sidewalks in delightful pictures for our neighbors to drop into whenever they would like to. We can draw a castle world here, A cloud world two streets over, Another world that's full of bubbles, And maybe even one that's deep underground with all the lava that will explode out of a volcano. The possibilities are endless and the more people that walk by, The more their imaginations will add to our pictures. It's the gift that keeps on giving and going and giving. 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, It's bring a honeybee to work day. That's today? Yes, Mr. Honeybee. Our little honeybee will be here any moment to come to school with me. Oh my, That's right. I'll pack an extra lunch for our little honeybee today. Good thinking, My dear. I'm so excited to show our little honeybee what it's like to be a student in my class. 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, Snuggled up in your bed, In your house in the honeybee neighborhood. You enjoy your last few moments of snoozing before your eyes pop open, Before the alarm has anything to say about it, And you sit straight up. You greet this exciting day with enthusiasm. You can't seem to get the day started fast enough. You fling open your curtains and see that the sun isn't even fully awake yet. You rush out the door, Clutching the strap of your backpack as you hurl it onto your shoulder and walk the short way to us, Where you see Mr. Honeybee and I still enjoying our morning tea out on the porch. My, Oh my, Don't you look spiffy, My little honeybee. Someone's ready for bring-a-honeybee-to-work day. You are here just in time to join us for our little morning walk with Harold. He's going to be so happy to see you before we leave for the day. We enjoy a peaceful stroll around the block with Harold. Even a short walk helps all your nerves calm down. Now you're able to sink into the joy of this moment. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the coolness of the air coming in through your nose and expanding your chest. Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth as we round the last corner on our way back home. Melody B opens the front door before we can and she can hardly contain her excitement. In addition to the biggest smile, She's also wearing her brand new first day of school outfit because she'll be joining us too. She has a new scarf and a new backpack. So, How do I look? Like the most studious bee I ever did see. You are definitely ready for school. I'm so excited. Is the backpack too much? Don't tell anyone, But it's totally empty. Your secret is safe with us, Melody B. Mr. Honeybee, What are you going to do all day without us? Harold and I will probably go down to the river for some fishing. Or, Because we're so excited, We might just end up watching the clock until it's time to pick you up from school. Or is it work? I guess it's both. Mr. Honeybee, If you're going to pick us up from work school, How are we going to get there? Are you going to drop us off? That sounds fun. Oh, Mrs. Honeybee, You haven't told them yet? Told them? Told me? Told us? What don't we know? You're smiling, So I know it must be good. Please tell them. I mean us. Well, My little Honeybee and Melody B, Today we're driving the bus and picking up everyone along the way. Here it is. The big yellow school bus has double doors that open up for you and Melody B as their honored guests. You take big steps up into the bus. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. Then you have the bus completely to yourself. Whichever seat you like is all yours. Window seat? Up front? I've never been on a bus before, But I've always noticed their lovely colors. Your job starts now though, My little Honeybee. I will need your help navigating to everyone's house. I reach back to hand you a big map that you stretch out in front of you. There are little stickers where each student lives. We look out the window to see Mr. Honeybee and Harold waving us goodbye. We wave back and are on our way. One by one, We pick everyone up. They're all so excited to see you because they've heard so much about you and all of our adventures. There are just a few more houses to stop at and the once empty bus is now full, Buzzing with activity. The students sing songs and play games all the way there. You get to know everyone and hear about what they've been learning lately. You're having so much fun on the bus ride to school that when we arrive, You remember why you're here in the first place. The bus unloads its passengers and all the students file into the schoolyard and then into the classroom. We walk behind them to make sure each and every student gets safely inside. The classroom is dark until we arrive so you flip up the light switch and brighten up the room even more. While all the students are getting their chairs down from the desk, Melody B slowly saunters down the hallway. Looking at all the pictures of students that line the walls, She stops for a moment in front of a trophy case that has a big shiny trophy and several blue ribbons hanging down from it. Melody B is the last one to the classroom door. And before she can get in, One of the students slams the door with Melody B on the other side. Hey, I'm going to school today too. Can someone open this door? Ignoring Melody B's cries, The student walks back to her desk thinking she's done a good job keeping a bee out of the classroom. You quietly get up from your seat behind the teacher's desk at the front of the classroom and open the door for Melody B. Thank you, Little honey bee. This must be why more bees don't go to school. It's tough out here. Melody B joins you at my desk before I call you both to the front of the classroom to introduce you. Before you even get up to the front, The students already start cheering for you. They know all about you, My little honey bee. Class, As you all know, We have two special guests that will be joining us today. You've heard all about my little honey bee here, And this is Melody B, Our other helper for today. Hi, Everyone. Hello! They will be helping us out today. Like always, You can raise your hand if you need help, And one of us will be there. We usually get the day started by saying one thing we're grateful for. Does everyone have theirs? Who wants to go first? Oh, Oh, I'll go first. I am so grateful to be here at school learning. Each student in the class carefully considers what they are grateful for today. Sitting behind the teacher's desk at the front of the classroom, Swiveling the chair from side to side, Think of one thing you are grateful for. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel your chest filling with gratitude and the sensation of your heart beating once, Twice, Three times. Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and send all your gratitude out into the world to pass it along so its goodness can grow. We go through our schedule of activities. First, We go over the homework from last night. As we correct math problems and learn spelling, You write all the correct answers on the board in your best writing. The students raise their hands for you to come help them, And you're able to with ease. Melody B buzzes around as your shadow, Trying to learn as much as she can during her school day. You are so, So smart, My little honey bee. When we're done with homework, The bell rings for recess. We all run out to the playground and scatter. You enjoy a couple games of tetherball, Climb across the monkey bars, And even win a game of basketball that started. It's a beautiful day to be out in the sunshine, And you enjoy meeting all the new friends around you. When the bell rings again, You follow everyone back into the classroom for story time. This isn't just any story, Though. This is popcorn story time. We all get comfy in a circle on the floor. You are sitting beside me with Melody B on your other side. I'll start the story with a sentence. Then you add a sentence. Then Melody B adds a sentence, And so on. Before we start, Everyone settles into their comfy positions on the floor. Make sure you're as cozy as possible. Okay, Class, I'll start the story, But we get to tell it together. Hmm. Oh, I know. Once upon a time, There was a glowing octopus that lived at the deepest, Darkest depths of the ocean. Hmm. Every day, This octopus would swim to a new shipwreck to see what he could find. As the story goes, One day this octopus found a big black top hat in one of the shipwrecks. He felt so fancy in his top hat that he was encouraged to think out of the box about his life, Even out of the ocean. Because of that, He ventured onto dry land in his top hat. Because of that, People on the land began to notice him. Such a fancy octopus, Strolling around dry land in his top hat. Not just strolling around, This octopus in the top hat was actually running a presidential campaign. He ran for president and passed out flyers to everyone who saw him stroll by in his fancy top hat. Until finally, The day came for the election. It was a close race, But the purple glowing octopus came out ahead above the rest and won the presidency. The octopus achieved world peace, Then returned home to the deepest, Darkest depths with a new sense of what he was capable of. The story brought us all the way to a second recess. It's a short day today, So Mr. Honeybee will be here soon to pick us up for lunch. We go back out into the sunshine to enjoy its warmth on our skin. Take another slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel your chest and your spirits lift. Then, Slowly, Breathe out through your mouth as you help round everyone up from second recess. You and Melody Bee are such helpful helpers. You stay at the back of the class to make sure everyone gets inside. To end this short day, We go over the homework for tomorrow, And all the students get the last of their questions in. It takes all three of us, Me, You, And Melody Bee to answer all their questions, But we finally do just in time for the last bell of the day to ring. Thank you for your help, My little Honeybee. I don't know what I'm going to do without you and Melody Bee tomorrow. Every day should be Bring a Honeybee to Work Day. Just then, The door creaks open and Mr. Honeybee peeks his head in as quietly as he can, Hoping he's not interrupting the class. When he sees that it's empty, He opens the door and comes in. Hey, How'd it go? It was so much fun. We have an octopus president now. Finally! I've been waiting for a cephalopod to get into office. We had a great time today. I was just telling them that I don't know how I'm going to get by every day without my assistants. I mean, We can always come back, Mrs. Honeybee. Of course you can. I'd love that. Are you ready for lunch, My little Honeybee? You get to pick anywhere you want to go. We tell Mr. Honeybee all about our day at school as we drive to lunch to fill up on your favorite meal. It's been such a delight spending the day with you. 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, Our adventure will fly by. We will join Melody Bee and her new tiger beetle friend for a game of tag. I bet you've never met a tiger beetle before, Little Honeybee. Probably because it's so hard to catch them. Do you know what happens when tiger beetles fly as fast as they can? Come on, Let's find out. 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 through the forest to our house. You decided to come the back way today because you are on your way to meet Melody Bee and her new tiger beetle friend for a game of tag. As leaves crunch beneath your footsteps, Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the coolness of the air. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth as you come upon our backyard gate, Which you recognize because the sunflowers are drooping their heads over the fence to greet you. Melody Bee is already outside, And you can hear her playing with her friend. You open the gate to join them. Hello! You're here! This is my friend, Tiger Beetle. He's not just any beetle. He's a tiger-y one. If there's anything a tiger beetle is excellent at, It's tag. We were just about to start a game. Not it! Buzzing before you is a very friendly, Bright green beetle that shimmers in the sunshine. He flutters up to you to say hello. Tiger beetles are known for how fast they can fly, But looking at him, You feel confident you can outrun a tiger beetle. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose, And stretch your arms all the way up and your legs all the way out to limber up for tag. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and take your place to begin. You lunge forward, Getting ready to run like you're at a race. The tiger beetle will be it first. On your marks, Get set, Go! You and Melody Bee zoom around the backyard, Hopping over the potted plants and weaving through the hammocks and the trees. You breeze by the sunflowers, Then run through the little field of them that has formed. You've gone so fast that the tiger beetle has changed direction and is now zooming after Melody Bee. She flutters and flutters, Zigzagging through the leaves of the tree just above the hive, Until, Finally, The tiger beetle catches up to her and tags her. You are formidable at tag, Tiger beetle, But I was just warming up. Melody Bee revs up her wings and wiggles her stinger like a cat, Getting ready to pounce. Then, She bursts into flight. First, She chases you, Again through the sunflowers, Around the side of the house where there are chickens. You step over them carefully. You bob and weave as Melody Bee buzzes all around you, Trying to tag you, But you are too fast at ducking that she changes course and goes after her new tiger beetle friend. He's pretending to go slow at first, Then goes faster and faster until you can hardly see his outline. He goes so fast that he becomes a flash of green light darting around the backyard, Through the garden, In a zigzagging circle. He goes so fast for so long that Melody Bee has to rest for a moment. She calls out to him, But he doesn't seem to hear her. You try calling out to him because he's flying directly into the side of the house. He doesn't seem to hear you and crashes into the house so hard that he bounces off and back into flight. Now he's scared, Dizzy, And panicking. Melody Bee shouts out to him again, Tiger Beetle, Are you okay? We can stop for a minute. I think you pretty much won. Mr. Honey Bee and I hear all the commotion outside, So we open the slider door to see what's going on. Are you two okay out here, My little Honey Bee? Melody Bee, Is your tiger beetle friend okay? I don't think so, But we can't get him to stop. The tiger beetle frantically flies all over the place, Bumping into the beanstalks and the peas that grow vertically. A few sunflower petals fall to the ground as he zips by in dizzying circles. Everyone watches in anticipation, Wondering what to do and how to help him. Suddenly, In the blink of an eye, He heads toward the back door. Harold appears in the doorway at the same time and they crash into one another before the tiger beetle zips into the house, Bouncing against each and every wall. Mr. Honey Bee and I rush in after him, But he also bumps into each of us at least once. We duck for cover as he zips back and forth in a frenzy, Trapped inside the house and moving faster and faster. Harold doesn't quite understand what's happening, But his puppy instincts kick in and pursue whatever is trying, In his perspective, To get away from him. Harold leaps up after the tiger beetle, Which sends the beetle into even more of a tailspin. He darts from wall to wall, Bumping into everything along the way. At one point, He gets stuck in the blankets of the couch, Where Mr. Honey Bee is able to at least keep him in a place that's soft so he won't crash into anything else, But he's terrified. It's okay, Little fella. You're okay in here. Melody Bee gathered up some of her other beetle friends who know exactly what's happening to this tiger beetle. She cautiously buzzes inside, Looking over her shoulder to make sure she won't bump into her new friend. Melody Bee flutters up to you, Standing beside me and Mr. Honey Bee, Who are sitting on the couch. You're doing your best to hold Harold in place, But he is trained on the tiger beetle that is still flailing about under the soft blanket. Okay, Phew. I figured out what's happening. I knew this was a thing, But wow, Did not know it was this much of a thing. What is it, Melody Bee? Is something wrong with the tiger beetle? Well, Yes and no, But mostly no. Good thing. Do we need to research this? I am always ready to research. He's a tiger beetle, You say? Yes, Yes, That might be helpful, But I know what's happening. Tiger beetles are so good at playing tag because they can fly fast. So fast, In fact, That they temporarily blind themselves with how fast they're flying. So I don't have to feel bad about losing twice at tag. That's part of the good news, I guess. Anyways, He should be fine shortly, I think. Is there anything we can do to help him? There has to be. Let's go figure it out. We can keep him wrapped up in this blanket so he doesn't bump into anything. Okay, I'll hold him and sit with him while you go do some research, My dear. He might be scared in there. Can we try talking to him? Hey, Little guy, I'm Mrs. Honey Bee. That was Mr. Honey Bee, And you know Melody Bee and our little Honey Bee. We're all here to help you, Okay? Let us know what you need. How are you doing in there, Friend? Melody Bee slowly lifts up one corner of the blanket. Together, You both peek into the darkness, Trying to see how our friend is doing. When you can't see anything staring under there, You both lean in closer. Suddenly, Out comes the tiger beetle once again, In a panic. Mr. Honey Bee comes out of the office, Holding his laptop in his hand, Ready to announce his new findings. But instead, He runs right into the tiger beetle again. Harold is once again chasing the beetle and trips Mr. Honey Bee double after he tries to steady his footing from the beetle bump. I grab Harold to hold him in my arms, And we stand perfectly still, Trying not to add more commotion to the situation. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Quiet yourself inside and out, To be as still as possible. Then, Slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth, And watch for the tiger beetle, Which is zipping around you, But not bumping into you yet. You duck whenever he comes near, Though. While you're watching, Mr. Honey Bee reads what he found out about tiger beetles. Tiger beetles do blind themselves from running so fast, Like Melody Bee said, But I think I figured out how to help. The beetle comes hurling back towards us, So we all duck while Harold lunges, Trying to get the tiger beetle with his snout. Mr. Honey Bee continues while he ducks down. Tiger beetles live in burrows underground, So I don't think he's scared at all when he was wrapped up in the blanket. They live where it's dark, Just like that, So if we can wrap him in a blanket again, We should be able to get him back out in the sunshine. That might help him calm down. You get the same fuzzy blanket from the couch, And hand one corner to me, Another to Melody Bee, One to Mr. Honey Bee, And you hold the fourth in your hands. When the tiger beetle bumps into the wall across from us, We get ready. He's heading right towards us now. We're going to catch him in the softness of the blanket, Then wrap the four corners around him so he thinks he's back at home in his burrow. Here he comes. The blanket absorbs his bounce, And we fold the blanket around him gently. In an instant, He's calmed down. With the blanket swaddled around him, We carefully carry him back to the couch to calm down for a minute before releasing him outside. Melody Bee, Again, Leans in to check on her new friend. Tiger Beetle, Is there anything we can get you while you rest? In a dry, Crackly voice that can barely speak, He asks for water and something else, But Melody Bee cannot hear him through the blanket at first. What was that, Tiger Beetle? Water? Mrs. Honey Bee is getting you water now. Oh no, Not water. Waffles? Mrs. Honey Bee, Do we have waffles? We have all we need to make some waffles, Coming right up. You and Mr. Honey Bee follow me back to the kitchen, Where we get all the ingredients we need for the best batch of waffles we've ever made. Mr. Honey Bee sets the waffle iron on the counter, And we look over to make sure Melody Bee and the Tiger Beetle are still doing okay. She gives a thumbs up and a big smile. He sips the water from inside his blanket barrel and is finally calming down after a frantic afternoon. Once the batter is mixed up and smooth, You carefully pour the batter into the waffle iron. You can feel the warmth from here. As soon as Mr. Honey Bee closes it, You begin to smell the delicious waffles baking. Take another slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Smell the delicious aroma of waffles. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth as the first waffle bakes to golden brown perfection. One by one, We stack the waffles on a plate, And you drip syrup over the top. We carry it outside, Along with our Tiger Beetle friend in his blanket barrel. We sit them on the patio table in the backyard, Right next to each other, And open the top of the blanket so he can smell the waffles. He rushes right to the stack of waffles, But luckily the syrup is so sticky that he cannot move any further. He stays still long enough to see again and to enjoy the whole stack of waffles. We enjoy the rest of the afternoon, Having breakfast for lunch, Along with our new friend, And lounging in the backyard sunshine. 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 following a mysterious set of paw prints into the forest. What has thumbs like a human, A tail like a raccoon, And hangs in trees like a monkey. Hmm, I'm stumped. What is it, Melody Bee? It's a little… well, I can't spoil the surprise, Mrs. Honey Bee. Quick, Before they sneak away! 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 forest, Taking the long back way to our house that Harold showed you long, Long ago. You've always remembered it, Because you meet so many animal friends along the way. It seems like a new one pops up with each walk. That's what you love about the forest and the Honey Bee neighborhood. There's always something going on. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the crisp, Coolness of the forest air coming in through your nose and filling up your lungs. When you cannot take in any more freshness, Slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and crunch the leaves beneath your feet as you walk. Right foot, Left foot, Right foot, Left foot. You made a habit of watching where you're walking out here, Because there are gnarled tree roots that grow above the soil. Sometimes you like to balance on them. Today, When you do that, You notice something interesting in the dirt beside you. It looks like a paw print, But not like Harold's, Which are little and round from his paw pads. This paw print, If we can even call it that, Has thumbs. You're so close to the house that you can see our backyard from here. You shout out to Mr. Honey Bee. Little Honey Bee, Is that you? He peeks his eyes over the fence and sees you balancing on the tree root. You point down to the ground and tell him that you found thumb prints in the soil. Intrigued, Melody Bee peeks her eyes over the fence right beside Mr. Honey Bee. Did you say thumb prints? On the ground, Beneath a tree? You show him by following the trail that leads all the way to our backyard without stepping on them. You follow them through the gate, Around the garden beds, And over to where the hammock hangs between two trees. Someone with thumbs and four feet must have enjoyed our hammocks last night. Mrs. Honey Bee, Come out here. You have to see this. Why, Hello, My little Honey Bee. What did you find? A thumb print? It's a paw print, But it has thumbs. It's not like any other animal tracks I've seen. Definitely not a paw print like Harold's. Harold, Come here boy. Harold wakes up from his nap and runs out to the backyard, So excited to see you. He leaves paw prints in the grass and the dirt beneath the tree. You pick him up before he treads on the mysterious paw prints. Just like Melody Bee said, The two paw prints look nothing alike. These are not from a dog or a cat. They are definitely not from a bird or a squirrel. Or, Have you ever seen a monkey in this forest, Mrs. Honey Bee? Hmm, We have a bunch of really kind beavers, But I haven't met a monkey yet. What about you, Melody Bee? In all your pollinating and wild harvesting, Have you ever seen a monkey? I don't think so. Who else has thumbs that are long like this, Though? We must have a monkey that we didn't know about. Let's follow them and see who the thumbed paw prints belong to. Come on! Like wildlife investigators, We venture out of the backyard and into the forest. The paw prints circle around and stop when they get to a tree. It's as if the mystery animal, The possible monkey, Goes into the tree for a break, Then comes back down and resumes walking along the soft soil of the forest floor. You look back and notice that where you've walked, You've also left footprints. They're step by step alongside the mysterious paw prints that we're investigating. Maybe some forest creature, Maybe even this one we're trailing now, Will wake up one morning and investigate our footsteps. You never know how you'll meet new friends on any given day. We walk deeper and deeper into the forest. The trees overhead are so dense with leaves that the sunlight only shines through in splotches. Every so often, You step into a sunbeam that shines right through the treetops and you stop for a moment to enjoy its warmth. Standing in your very own sunbeam, Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel your chest and your spirits lift, Surrounded by the beauty of nature. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and look up ahead to where the paw prints continue on. They seem to never end, But up ahead, Mr. Honeybee finds out that they do just kinda end. Do you see any more paw prints, Mrs. Honeybee? I don't see anything. No, I don't either, My dear. Melody Bee, Can you fly overhead and see if you can find them starting up again? Sure, I'll do a quick flutter about. Be right back. While Melody Bee takes to the skies, We do what we can on the ground with one of the world's best sniffers, Who is always by our side. Harold, Can you sniff out where this mysterious creature went? Maybe up a tree? Smell this paw print right here. Harold traces the outline of the thumbed paw print with his snout, Careful to sniff up any trace of scent. We stand around him waiting for him to move, But instead, He sits down and looks straight up. Maybe he sees Melody Bee. We look up to see what he sees, And do indeed see Melody Bee fluttering down above our heads. Um, I think I found the creature, But I'm not sure what it is. It's resting up in the tree, Upside down. It's sleeping upside down? Like a bat? Kinda, But fluffy, And with a long tail. Could it be a koala? No, We definitely have koalas. I've met a few of them on my walks with Harold. They live in eucalyptus trees. Now, I think this is a raccoon monkey. Maybe the Honey Bee neighborhood has the first ever raccoon monkey. Raccoon monkeys don't exist, Melody Bee. I just saw one. Oh, And it winked at me. It has these really bright blue eyes. So I think the name is Blue-Eyed Winking Raccoon Monkey. Well, Now we know. You all wanna head back and have some lemonade? We can't head back yet. We have to see this blue-eyed winky creature for ourselves. It's up in this tree? Yep, Right up here. I'll show you. We climb up the tree, Following Melody Bee. Right hand, Right foot, Left hand, Left foot. Once we get near the top, We slow down until we come to a sturdy branch that will hold all of us. Melody Bee points across from us in the tree, And there we see our mystery creature. But not just one, There are two. A brown one with bright blue eyes, And another with a striped tail that does exactly look like a cross between a raccoon and a monkey. Oh, There are two raccoon monkeys. See? They're right there. We do have them, Mr. Honey Bee. Wow, I stand corrected. Let me try something. Mr. Honey Bee balances on the tree branch to pull a contraption out of his pocket that will help us identify exactly what this creature is. He takes a picture of each of them. A bright light flashes toward them, And the blue-eyed one opens his eyes and waves. Mr. Honey Bee clicks on his device, Doing some impromptu research into the scientific name for these new friends, To see if they have a name yet. Wait, These guys aren't raccoon monkeys. They're ewe lemur flavifrons. That's technically who they are, And they do indeed have thumbs. Are they lemurs? I've heard of them before. Yes, That's them. They are pretty interesting, Actually. They are the only primate, Besides humans, That can have blue eyes. Oh, And they have two tongues. Just as Mr. Honey Bee says that both of the lemurs stick their tongues out at us with their thumbed paws behind their ears to make silly faces while they hang upside down, These lemurs are certainly friendly, And we're friendly too. Without hesitation, We decide to introduce ourselves to our new friends. Hello, Lemurs. We're the honey bees. We saw your interesting paw prints in our backyard. You can visit us anytime you'd like. The lemurs turn their heads to be right-side up and wave hello again before climbing along the underside of the branch toward us. They are incredible acrobats who effortlessly swing through the tree just like a monkey would. When they get to us, They snuggle in between all of us, And Harold gives them a good sniff before accepting them as friendly creatures. The lemurs hold out their tiny hands for us to hold ours up. You slowly put your hand out and lightly press it against the lemurs. It's shocking how similar your very different hands seem. Harold barks wondering why he didn't get any thumbs. That holds him back so much. If he had thumbs, He'd use them to open the refrigerator where the treats hide. With our feet swinging from the tree branch, We spend the afternoon with the lemurs, Learning all about how they live up in the trees. They take us on a tour of their favorite trees and to meet some of their lemur friends. There are so many more of them than we ever expected. We follow the two lemurs down the tree and along the forest floor. We see their paws making prints and leaves crunch under their footsteps. They've asked us to follow them because they want to show us something. We agree and follow them through the forest of trees, Winding through the sporadic rows of trunks that sprouted up where they pleased. You didn't realize it, But we actually followed the lemur uphill and are now on a precipice overlooking a newly formed grove of trees that are just starting to grow. The lemurs explain that they like to refer to themselves as the creators of the forest in that they are diligent seed spreaders. They spend most of their days foraging for seeds to eat, But the seeds that they don't eat, They bury in the soil. Since they travel so far and wide throughout the forest, All the trees we see here are seedlings that sprouted from newly sown seeds they gathered. Interestingly, The lemurs are pollinators just like Melody Bee is. When Melody Bee hears that, She can't help but immerse herself in the life of a very different pollinator than she's ever met before. The lemurs teach Melody Bee new pollination tricks and together we learn so much about our new friends who made this forest adventure so, So special. 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 my dog Harold to the vet. How's your paw little guy? Aww, It looks like it's still bothering him. I think I've got the solution for now. Harold's favorite treats. He loves those. Here, I'll give him one now. Oh Harold, Come here boy, Look what I've got. 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 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, But you don't hear him running up to the door to greet you. Instead, Mr. Honey Bee opens the door, Wearing a worried look. Hello, My little Honey Bee. I wish I had better news for you. Come on in. Mr. Honey Bee leads you into the living room, Where me and Melody Bee are sitting with Harold on the couch. He's whimpering with his head hanging low. When he sees you, He is suddenly full of excitement that his little body can't hold, And he jumps down from the couch with a yelp. Oh no, Harold! You have to be careful with your paw. I'll go get him some ice for his paw, And some for him to crunch. He loves eating ice and snow. Hopefully that'll make you feel better, Harold. You join me and Harold on the couch while Melody Bee and Mr. Honey Bee get an ice pack and an icy snow cone started for him. He lays beside you, Curling his paw under his body like it hurts him tremendously. You sit beside him, Stroking the top of his head and his floppy ears that don't have the same perk in them today. Here you go, Boy. Here's some ice for your paw. And some ice to munch on. My little Honey Bee, I'm so glad you're here. Harold is, Too. Something is very wrong with him. We got up to leave on our ski trip and were packing up his stuff for doggy daycare, And all of a sudden he started limping on his front paw. Then he couldn't put any pressure on it. Now he won't let us even touch it. I'm afraid we'll have to take him to the V. E. T. Instead of going on our trip, Harold needs us. Without hesitation, We all decide to postpone the ski trip until we know for sure that Harold is alright. His ears suddenly perk up again, But this time with concern because he heard the word V. E. T. We don't like to say it in front of him, But he's even learned how to spell it now. Suddenly, Harold takes off again, Then yelps and continues to limp up the stairs, Flinging his carrier, Which he knows only takes him to the V. E. T. In the car. We have to coax him out with treats and more treats, But he finally lets us put him in his carrier and load him into the car. We have no choice but to see what the V. E. T. Says. Driving to the V. E. T. 's office, You sit next to Harold in his carrier. Sometimes he loves to sit on your lap and look out the window with you, But when you look into the top of his carrier, He seems to be in too much pain to take him out. You decide to let him rest, But roll down the window a little so he can at least feel the cool breeze. Take a slow, Deep breath in through your nose. Feel the sensation of your heart beating once, Twice, Three times. Then, Slowly, Breathe all the way out through your mouth and send all of your love to Harold. We're here, Harold. You should be feeling better in no time. We rush inside the V. E. T. 's office and into the first available room. A veterinary nurse is waiting in the open doorway, Waving to us with a hopeful smile. He welcomes us into the exam room, And you lift up Harold's carrier to put him on the metal table. Under the fluorescent lights, Everything seems harsh, But the nurse understands this and turns off the bright lights and opens the long, Vertical blinds for a softer light. The kind V. E. T. Nurse holds his hand out for Harold to smell. He sniffs it and looks to you to see if he should trust this new person. You nod him the okay, And he wags his tail against the sides of his carrier before walking out onto the table. Good boy, Harold. Can you lift up your paw so the nurse can see it? The V. E. T. Nurse is very gentle as he examines what he can see of Harold's paw. He scans it for injuries, Administers a couple reflex tests, And does a thorough examination of Harold's heart, Ears, And snout. From what he can see, Everything looks great. The nurse doesn't see any signs of broken bones, Fractures, Or sprains. There's no indication of pain when he touches any part of Harold's paws. And there isn't anything stuck in his paw, Like a small rock or a stinger. The V. E. T. Looks at Melody B. Once, Then again, As to ask if she accidentally stung him. I would never! No, No, I was out in the garden when this all started. Tell them, Mrs. Honeybee. Melody B. Was outside prepping the irrigation system to run automatically while we were on our ski trip. All of a sudden, Harold just started limping. The V. E. T. Nurse sees exactly what we describe when he tries to put Harold down. Suddenly, Harold limps again and yelps and winces in pain. Concerned, The nurse asks to take him back to see the V. E. T. For more tests. We, Of course, Agree to do whatever is necessary for our furry friend. With a kiss to the snout, You say goodbye to Harold for now as the nurse takes him back. His big, Worried eyes are the last thing we see before the door shuts behind them. Oh my, What do you think it could be? I wish I knew. I hope our Harold is okay. I wish we could be with him for his tests. After waiting for what feels like forever, The door opens. Through it walks a smiling V. E. T. Wearing a white coat and a stethoscope around her neck. We don't see any sign of Harold, But she's smiling, So we're hopeful that she has good news. We wait anxiously as she sits down with us. Instead of talking about Harold's condition or his paw, The first thing she asks is if we were planning to leave on a ski trip today. Yes, We were all packed up to leave. Harold usually goes to doggy daycare when we go, So he was all packed up too, But we can't send him there like this. Wait, Does our ski trip have something to do with Harold's paw? The V. E. T. Laughs and continues that she did a battery of tests, Everything she could possibly think of for a paw injury. An x-ray confirmed there's no broken bones or fractures. All other tests confirm that Harold is one healthy, Well-loved pup. But. . . But what? But what? The V. E. T. Thinks for a moment, Figuring out how to best tell us what is actually wrong with Harold. You are trying to keep a positive outlook, Especially considering all the good news you heard from the V. E. T. But what could possibly be wrong with Harold if nothing seems to be wrong with Harold? Is there anything we can do to help him? The V. E. T. Calms us down with another reassuring smile. She says that physically, Harold is just fine. Absolutely nothing wrong with him. He's good to go to doggy daycare today, But. . . But what? Doc, That's a good thing, Right? What could possibly be the but? That's when the kind V. E. T. Explains that Harold is fine physically, But feels crummy emotionally. While she was administering test after test on Harold, He would not stop talking about how much he misses all four of you while you're gone. He does love doggy daycare, But he misses us so much that he can't bring himself to enjoy it fully. There's nothing wrong with his paw, But he knows how much we love him and that we'd cancel our ski trip in an instant if he wasn't feeling well. And that's exactly what we did. Wow. I didn't even think of it from his perspective. Did you, My dear? I didn't either. I always assumed he loved doggy daycare. He does love it. He comes back so happy to tell us about all the activities and new dogs he meets. One time he met a llama. I guess he just loves us more than even the coolest doggy daycares. We talk with the V. E. T. A little longer, And she tells us that she sees this a lot. Dogs miss their humans so much when they leave that sometimes they take extreme measures to make their emotional pain more legible. Legible? Legible, Melody B. Able to be understood by others. Oh, Got it. That was helpful for me too. As we've seen here today, Even slightly older dogs can learn new tricks. Harold didn't trick us on purpose, But that was the only way he knew how to tell us what he really felt and that we can appreciate. We talk amongst ourselves for a bit and come to the conclusion that of course we can take Harold on our ski trips with us from now on. We always assumed he loved doggy daycare like his own sort of vacation. But now we know the truth about how Harold feels. We tell the V. E. T. That Harold can always tell us exactly how he feels, Even if it comes out wrong at first or sounds funny. The V. E. T. 's smile gets even bigger and she calls back to Harold, Who is listening on the other side of the door. Did you hear that, Harold? You can come with us. Of course you can, Buddy. We'd love for you to come with us. Without hesitation, Harold bursts through the door and leaps up onto the slick metal table. Not judging the height of the table correctly, He crashes right into it and falls down to the hard tile floor. He whimpers in pain just like he did before. Luckily, The V. E. T. Saw the whole thing. She scoops him up for more tests in the exam room in the back. We wait anxiously before she once again returns, But this time with Harold bandaged up in her arms. Oh no, Did he really hurt himself? Turns out the happy jump Harold attempted cost him a sprained paw. He will have to stay off of it for a few weeks and will need plenty of rest to heal up. We leave the V. E. T. 's office with specific instructions to love on Harold as much as we can, But the ski trip is effectively postponed until Harold can enjoy the snow with us. Always remember, Mrs. Honeybee believes in you. You are special and you are loved. I can't wait to see you again.