Biscuit says goodnight to the whole house

Biscuit was a small brown puppy with one ear that stood up and one ear that flopped down. She lived in a yellow house at the end of a quiet street with a girl named Wren. Every night, when the sky turned the color of blueberries, Wren would say, “Bedtime, Biscuit.”

But Biscuit could not go to bed yet. Not quite yet. There was something she had to do first.

She had to say goodnight to everything.

She padded into the kitchen. Her paws went tap, tap, tap on the floor. Under the table she found a spoon that had fallen at dinner. It was a small spoon, and it looked as if it would like to be remembered.

“Goodnight, spoon,” said Biscuit. She touched it once with her nose. “Goodnight, goodnight.”

The spoon did not say anything back, because spoons are quiet. But Biscuit felt sure it was pleased.

Next she found Wren’s red shoe by the back door. Just one shoe. The other one had wandered off somewhere, the way shoes do.

“Goodnight, shoe,” said Biscuit. “Your friend will turn up in the morning. Goodnight, goodnight.”

She gave a tiny yawn. Hoo.

In the hallway there was a tall window, and outside the window was the moon, round and pale like a dinner plate. Biscuit put her front paws up on the sill and looked out.

“Goodnight, window,” she said. “Goodnight, moon behind the window. Goodnight, goodnight.”

The moon seemed to shine a little softer, as if it had heard her.

Biscuit’s legs felt heavier now. She walked a little slower. Tap. Tap. Tap.

In the living room, the big green chair sat where it always sat. Biscuit had chewed one corner of it when she was very little, and she still felt a bit sorry about that.

“Goodnight, chair,” she said, and she leaned her head against its soft side. “Goodnight, goodnight.”

Another yawn. Hoo. A bigger one this time.

On the shelf there was a plant with long green leaves. Biscuit sniffed it. It smelled like outside.

“Goodnight, plant. Goodnight, goodnight.”

By the stairs lay her own blue ball. It had rolled there all by itself, or maybe she had left it there. She could not quite remember, and that was all right.

“Goodnight, ball,” said Biscuit, very softly. “We will play tomorrow. Goodnight, goodnight.”

Then she sat down on the bottom step, because her legs asked her to, and she stayed there for a long, quiet moment.

Wren came and found her. She did not say “Hurry up.” She just sat down beside her on the step, and the two of them looked at the dim, still house together.

“Have you said goodnight to everything?” Wren asked.

Biscuit thought about it. Not quite everything.

She climbed the stairs, one at a time. Wren came up behind her. In Wren’s room, the lamp was already low and orange, like a little sunset in the corner.

“Goodnight, lamp,” Biscuit whispered. “Goodnight, goodnight.”

She found Wren’s slippers, side by side, like two sleepy animals. “Goodnight, slippers.” Hoo.

She found the rug. “Goodnight, rug.”

She found her own bed, round and soft, in the corner where the floor was warm from the heating pipe.

“Goodnight, bed,” she said. She stepped into it and turned around three times, the way puppies do, and lay down with her nose on her paws.

Wren knelt beside her and rubbed the ear that flopped down.

“Goodnight, Wren,” Biscuit thought, because she was too sleepy to say it out loud. “Goodnight, goodnight.”

Wren got into her own bed. The lamp clicked off. The house was dark and warm and full of things that had been said goodnight to.

Biscuit listened.

The spoon was quiet.

The shoe was quiet.

The window was quiet, and the moon behind it was quiet too.

Her breathing went slow. In. Out. In. Out.

Her floppy ear went still.

Her tail gave one last small wag, and then it rested.

Goodnight, spoon.

Goodnight, shoe.

Goodnight, window.

Goodnight, Biscuit.

Hoo.

Goodnight, goodnight.

How to read this one aloud

• Say every “Goodnight, goodnight” a little quieter than the one before. By the time Biscuit reaches the stairs, you should be close to a whisper.
• Make the yawn real. A soft “hoo” on an out-breath often sets off a real yawn in a child, which is exactly what you want.
• The pause point is when Biscuit sits on the bottom step. If your child is asleep, stop there. If not, carry on up the stairs at the same slow pace.
• If your child is still awake at the end, ask one question: “What would you say goodnight to in our house?” Let them name two or three things, then say goodnight to each one together. It works as a small wind-down of its own, like the last step of a calm toddler bedtime routine.
• For a child who likes this one, the kitten who looked for the warmest spot has the same slow shape. If you are not sure how long a story should run for your child’s age, see bedtime stories by age.