
Sign up to save your podcasts
Or


Visit the “A Bedtime Story” show website to submit your story ideas for a future episode!
Sir Oliver, a knight no bigger than a thimble, stood at the foot of Mount Muffin, which was what he called the giant's kneecap. His quest was a noble one: to retrieve the giant's lost coat button. The giant, a kindly soul named Walter, was distraught. He was very chilly without his button, and his sneezes were becoming legendary—each one was like a tiny hurricane.
"Are you sure you're ready, Sir Oliver?" Walter rumbled, his voice like distant thunder. "My next sneeze is a big one. I feel it in my toes."
"I am as ready as I'll ever be!" Sir Oliver shouted, trying to sound brave, though he was holding on to a shoelace for dear life.
Walter’s nose began to twitch. Sir Oliver braced himself, clutching the shoelace. A mighty "A-CHOOO!" echoed through the air. The gust of wind was immense. Sir Oliver was lifted off his feet, his little cape flapping wildly. He soared over Walter's shoe and landed with a plop in a field of daisies.
He dusted himself off. The button wasn’t there. He looked up at Walter, who was now blowing his nose with a handkerchief the size of a small car.
“I believe it rolled under the couch,” Walter said, his voice now a little watery.
Sir Oliver sighed. The couch was the size of a small mountain range. But a knight’s quest was a knight’s quest. He climbed back up Walter's pant leg, a mission of epic proportions ahead of him, prepared to face the dust bunnies and forgotten snacks that surely lay beneath the giant's furniture. The next time Walter sneezed, Sir Oliver would be ready.
By Matthew MitchellVisit the “A Bedtime Story” show website to submit your story ideas for a future episode!
Sir Oliver, a knight no bigger than a thimble, stood at the foot of Mount Muffin, which was what he called the giant's kneecap. His quest was a noble one: to retrieve the giant's lost coat button. The giant, a kindly soul named Walter, was distraught. He was very chilly without his button, and his sneezes were becoming legendary—each one was like a tiny hurricane.
"Are you sure you're ready, Sir Oliver?" Walter rumbled, his voice like distant thunder. "My next sneeze is a big one. I feel it in my toes."
"I am as ready as I'll ever be!" Sir Oliver shouted, trying to sound brave, though he was holding on to a shoelace for dear life.
Walter’s nose began to twitch. Sir Oliver braced himself, clutching the shoelace. A mighty "A-CHOOO!" echoed through the air. The gust of wind was immense. Sir Oliver was lifted off his feet, his little cape flapping wildly. He soared over Walter's shoe and landed with a plop in a field of daisies.
He dusted himself off. The button wasn’t there. He looked up at Walter, who was now blowing his nose with a handkerchief the size of a small car.
“I believe it rolled under the couch,” Walter said, his voice now a little watery.
Sir Oliver sighed. The couch was the size of a small mountain range. But a knight’s quest was a knight’s quest. He climbed back up Walter's pant leg, a mission of epic proportions ahead of him, prepared to face the dust bunnies and forgotten snacks that surely lay beneath the giant's furniture. The next time Walter sneezed, Sir Oliver would be ready.