In this blog post, MamaH exposes her bedtime tropes, which include mash-ups of AA Milne stories and the Three Stooges, as played by vegetables. Very small vegetables.
Baby Broccoli (whose name was a sad attempt at trying to get my son to respect vegetables) cohabits with Pooh and Piglet in the Hundred Acre wood. Baby Broccoli's sidekick is Baby Corn, and the two little imps are always off on some adventure that Pooh and Piglet have to extricate them from.
Usually, the stories end up in some sort of slapstick race where one unlikely thing happens after the next. My son thinks they are hilarious. In fact, they are so hilarious that he ends up jumping up and down in the bed, squealing at the twists and turns in the story, and waking up his little sister who had inevitably *just* settled down to sleep.
I haven't figured out exactly what these two "boys" look like-- do they look like broccoli and corn? Because that's sort of creepy. Anyhow, my son doesn't seem to mind. The main thing is that they are funny, single-word-with-exclamation-point-screaming boys. They appeal.
However, they don't necessarily serve the purpose of a bedtime story to CALM and RELAX. At the end of the story, my son is inevitably:
c) Shouting continuations "...and then they get in a rocket ship and go up up up to the moooooon!"
d) Crying from having laughed so hard
Tonight was "movie night", so that necessitated a shorter version of events, and preferably one that did not involve keeping up the already-past-her-experation-date sister.
Tonight Baby Broccoli and Baby Corn witnessed a quadruple rainbow in the field across the street, and ran over to catch it. They ran and ran, feeling like the closer they got to it, the more it receded. Until they stopped and looked around and realized that they were actually IN the rainbow. The rainbow enveloped the entire field and became a sort of glowing blanket that skimmed over the surface of the ground.
The two boys found that they could run and slide on it; they could arc around as though ice skating; the slightest of pressure with their hands or feet could steer them one way or another, as if swimming, or weightless in space.
There need be no end to this story. No closure, no resolution. Baby Broccoli, Baby Corn, my son and the rainbow. Sublime.