A Zuzoomba Story
A short, funny bedtime story for young kids. He is four (almost five), and he is very, very sure about all the wrong things.
Before the story starts — ten seconds of the boy himself. Press play.
The cereal was ready. The spoon was ready. The morning sun was ready. But Zuzoomba found a crinkly bag of treats, and treats are red and green and shiny, and cereal is only... cereal.
"Breakfast is for growing," said Mom. "Candy is for growing faster," said Zuzoomba, which is not how growing works.
One bowl, uneaten. One boy, delighted.At nine o'clock the book opened for study time. At nine o'clock and one minute, a blue car drove across page four. Then a dinosaur. Then another dinosaur, because dinosaurs travel in families.
The clock ticked. The parade grew. Somewhere under all those wheels, the letters waited patiently to be learned tomorrow.
Study time became parade time. Again."Come help me plant the seeds," said Mom, handing him a little trowel. Zuzoomba looked at the seeds. Zuzoomba looked at the mud. The mud was right there, and it was already the perfect colour for cake.
He made one mud pie, then a second for the bushes, then a very tall one for nobody in particular. The seed packets sat in the garden box, still waiting.
Gardening: zero. Bakery: open for business.He was given a chalkboard. A perfectly good chalkboard, with a ledge and everything. But a chalkboard has edges, and a dragon does not fit inside edges — a dragon needs a whole wall, plus stars, plus a rocket for company.
"The board is too small for my ideas," Zuzoomba explained, drawing a tail that went all the way to the corner.
The board stayed empty. The wall became a story."Please put the toys in the box," said Mom. And Zuzoomba did pick up one block. He carried it two steps. Then he saw the rainbow tunnel, and everybody knows a tunnel is for hiding in.
"You can't see me!" he giggled, from inside a tunnel where his knees and both feet were sticking out.
Blocks tidied: one. Boys hidden: almost none.Mom held out a cloth for wiping. Zuzoomba took a blanket instead, and a second blanket, and every cushion within reach. When you can build an empire, why would you clean a floor?
Inside the fort lived a bear, a dinosaur, three cars, and one very proud king who refused to come out for dusting.
The mess did not shrink. It got a roof.Bath time is for soap. Everybody agrees on this except Zuzoomba, who knows that a tub full of warm water is really an ocean, and an ocean needs at least two dinosaurs having an argument in it.
Water went on the floor. Water went on the towels. A tiny bit of water even went on Zuzoomba, which technically counts.
Epic battle: won. Clean boy: pending.The lamp was low. The book was open to the very best page. And Zuzoomba — pyjamas on, teeth brushed, entirely out of excuses — discovered that his bed is not for sleeping. His bed is a trampoline.
"One more bounce," he said. He said it eleven times.
Ready for sleep? No. Ready to jump? Always.Somewhere around bounce number twelve, Zuzoomba got slower. And slower. He flopped down beside the book, right in the middle of the very best page.
He did not eat his breakfast. He did not study, or garden, or tidy, or wash. He chose candy and parades and mud and dragons and tunnels and forts and dinosaurs and bouncing — every single time.
But tomorrow is a brand-new morning, with a brand-new bowl of cereal. And who knows? Maybe tomorrow Zuzoomba will choose the cereal first, and the parade after.
Maybe.
The End.
Zuzoomba Can’t Decide is a short illustrated bedtime story written for young children roughly three to six years old — preschool and kindergarten age. Each of the eight chapters is only a few sentences long, so you can read one at a time, or the whole story in about five minutes.
The story is about choices. Zuzoomba always picks the fun thing over the good-for-him thing: candy instead of breakfast, playing instead of studying, mud instead of gardening, bouncing instead of sleeping. Little listeners love spotting the mistake before the grown-up in the story does — and that noticing is the whole point. Nothing scary happens, nobody gets in trouble, and it ends softly for lights-out.
A good question to ask at the end: “What would you have picked?”