Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Secret Keepers

Two little hedgehogs sat on a nightstand.

“Hedge, I’m worried about Sharon,” said the fluffy one.  “She hasn’t had an idea in ages.”

“What makes you say that?” said Hedge, the curly one.

“Well, you know how she whispers her ideas to us during the night for us to remember, and then she tosses us onto the floor to keep them safe?  Well, she hasn’t done that for a long time.”

Hedge made no response.  She just looked at the ceiling.  Hog noticed.

“You know something!” he said.  “Tell me, what is it?”

Hedge looked uncomfortable.

“I was hoping to spare you, but you would have found out anyway.  It’s this:  Sharon has been writing her ideas on paper.”


“Oh, yes.  Last Tuesday, I heard her get out of bed.  At first I thought she was using the bathroom, but then I saw a light go on.  I’m pretty sure it was coming from the office.  The clock read 1:37.”

At these words, Hog groaned.

“Oh, say it isn’t so!  Oh, Hedge, it’s all my fault!  The last time she had an idea and whispered it to me, I landed funny on my head.  The next morning I couldn’t remember it.  It was awful.”

“Hog, why didn’t you tell me?”

Hog hung its little head.

“I was too embarrassed,” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” said Hedge.  “We just need to regain her trust in our secret-keeping.  I know! We will jump off the nightstand and practice landing on our heads.  Before we jump, we will tell each other a secret and see if we remember it afterward.”

“Oh, Hedge, that’s a great idea!  May I go first?”

“Be my guest.”  Hedge leaned over to Hog and put her mouth by his ear.  After a few seconds, Hog nodded and waddled to the edge of the nightstand.

“Here goes,” he said, as he made a mighty leap.  “AIEEEH!”

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