 Hi everybody! This is Stephanie from the Robbins Library. I'm sorry we're a few minutes late, but I'm so happy to join you for Storytime. I hope you're having some good time at home, and let's do some stories. I'm going to start with one of my old time favorites. It's called Gregory the Terrible Eater by Mitchell Sharma. And there he is. He is a goat. Once there was a goat named Gregory. Gregory liked to jump from rock to rock, kick his legs into the air, and butt his head against walls. I am an average goat, said Gregory. But Gregory was not an average goat. Gregory was a terrible eater. Every time he sat down to eat with his mother and father, he knew he was in for trouble. And there's Gregory going to get some food with his family. Would you like a tin can, Gregory? asked Mother Goat. No thanks, said Gregory. How about a nice box, a piece of rug, and a bottle cap? asked Father Goat. Bah! said Gregory unhappily. Well, I think this is a meal fit for a goat, said Mother Goat, as she chewed on an old shoe. It certainly is, said Father Goat, as he ate a shirt, buttons and all. I don't know why you're such a fussy eater, Gregory. I'm not fussy, said Gregory. I just want fruits, vegetables, eggs, fish, bread and butter, good stuff like that. Looks kind of yummy, doesn't it? Mother Goat stopped eating the shoe. Now what kind of food is that, Gregory? she said. It's what I like, said Gregory. It's revolting, said Father Goat. He wiped his mouth with his napkin. After Gregory was excused from the table, Father Goat said, Gregory is such a terrible eater. I wonder what's wrong with him, said Mother Goat. Mother and Father Goat ate their evening newspaper in silence. You see, he's thinking of all these delicious foods. The next morning, Mother and Father Goat were enjoying a pair of pants and a coat for breakfast. Gregory came to the table. Good morning, Gregory, said Father and Mother Goat. Good morning, said Gregory. May I have some orange juice, cereal and bananas for breakfast, please? Oh no, Mother Goat said. Do have some of this nice coat. Take a bite out of these pants, said Father Goat. Bah! said Gregory, and he left the table. Father Goat threw down his napkin. That does it, he said. Gregory just isn't eating right. We must take him to the doctor. Father and Mother Goat took Gregory to the doctor. Dr. Rand was munching on a few pieces of cardboard. What seems to be the trouble, he asked? Gregory is a terrible eater, said Mother Goat. We've offered him the best. Shoes, boxes, magazines, tin cans, coats, pants, but all he wants is fruits and vegetables, eggs, fish, orange juice and other horrible things. What do you have to say about all this, Gregory? asked Dr. Rand. I want what I like, said Gregory. Makes sense, said Dr. Rand. He turned to Mother and Father Goat. I've treated picky eaters before, he said. They have to develop a taste for good food slowly. Try giving Gregory one new food each day until he eats everything. That night for dinner, Mother Goat gave Gregory spaghetti and a shoelace in tomato sauce. Not too bad, said Gregory. The next day she gave him string beans and a rubber heel cut into small pieces. The meal was really good and rubbery, said Gregory. The day after that, Mother Goat said, we have your favorite today, vegetable soup, but there is one condition. You also have to eat the can. Okay, said Gregory. What's for dessert? Ice cream, said Father Goat, but you have to eat the box, too. Yummy, said Gregory. I'm proud of you, said Father Goat. You're beginning to eat like a goat. I'm learning to like everything, said Gregory. One evening, Father Goat asked, has anyone seen my striped necktie? Not since breakfast, said Mother Goat. Come to think of it, I haven't seen my sewing basket today. I left it in the living room after supper last night. Father Goat turned to Gregory. Gregory, have you been eating between meals? Yes, said Gregory. I can't help it. Now I like everything. Well, said Mother Goat, it's all right to eat like a goat, but you shouldn't eat like a pig. Okay, said Gregory. After Gregory went to bed, Mother Goat said, I'm afraid Gregory will eat my clothes hamper. Yes, and then my toolkit will be next, said Father Goat. He's eating too much. We will have to do something about it. The next evening, just before supper, Mother and Father Goat went to the town dump. They brought home eight tires, a three-foot piece of barber pole, a broken violin, and half of a car. They piled everything in front of Gregory's sandbox. When Gregory came home for supper, he said, what's all that stuff in the yard? It's your supper, said Father Goat. It all looks good, said Gregory. Gregory ate the tires and the violin. Then he slowly ate the barber pole. But when he started in on the car, he said, I've got a stomach ache. I have to lie down. Gregory went to his room. I think Gregory ate too much junk, said Father Goat. Let's hope so, said Mother Goat. All night, Gregory tossed and twisted and moaned and groaned. The next morning, he went down for breakfast. What would you like for breakfast today, Gregory? asked Father Goat. Scrambled eggs and two pieces of waxed paper and a glass of orange juice, said Gregory. That sounds just about right, said Mother Goat. And it was the end. One of my favorites. But the book makes me a little hungry. I think we should have a story time snack. So I'm going to put my frying pan right here. Make sure you can see it. And I think we'll have sausages today. Would you help me count these sausages as they go in the pan, please? One, two, three, four, five. There's a poem we can say with our five fingers pretending they're sausages. Are you ready? Five fat sausages frying in the pan. All of a sudden, one went bam! And this sausage got so hot, it popped right out. So how many sausages are left now? One, two, three, four. Four fat sausages frying in the pan. All of a sudden, one went bam! And another sausage jumped right out. How many are left? One, two, three. Three fat sausages frying in the pan. All of a sudden, one went bam! And another sausage hopped right out. How many are left? One, two, two fat sausages frying in the pan. All of a sudden, one went bam! Another sausage jumped out. Can you count how many are left now? That's easy. One, one fat sausage frying in the pan. All of a sudden, it went bam! And that sausage hopped out. How many are left now? That's right. Zero. Snack time is over. Good job. Put this down here and go to our next book, which is another old book, but I think it's really funny. It's called The Most Wonderful Egg in the World, and it's written and illustrated by Helma Heiney. It's about chickens. The Most Wonderful Egg in the World. Once upon a time, a long time ago, three hens were quarreling about which one of them was the most beautiful. You can see them there. Dottie had the most beautiful feathers. Stalky had the most beautiful legs. Plumie had the most beautiful crest. Since they could not settle their quarrel among themselves, they decided to ask the king for his advice. So there's a sign. I see the picture of the king, so that's where they're going. What you can do is more important than what you look like, said the king, whichever one of you lays the most wonderful egg, I will make a princess. He went out into the palace park followed by all the hens in his kingdom. Dottie preened her beautiful feathers before settling herself in the wet grass. It was not long before she cackled, stood up and stepped aside. Everybody was speechless. There lay an egg, snow white, spotless and perfectly shaped, the eggshell shimmering like polished marble. This is the most perfect egg I have ever seen, cried the king, and all the hens nodded. Then it was Stalky's turn. Everybody felt a little sorry for her. They knew she could not lay a more perfect egg. It was impossible. After ten minutes, Stalky cackled, got up, stretched her legs proudly in the morning sun. The egg clapped, sorry, the king clapped his hands for joy. There lay an egg of such size and weight that even an ostrich would have been jealous. Look at how big it is. This is the biggest egg I have ever seen, cried the king, and the hens nodded. While they were still nodding, Plumie settled herself carefully on the ground. Everybody felt extremely sorry for her. They knew she could not lay a more perfect or bigger egg. It was unthinkable. Modestly, with cast down eyes, she sat there. Then, with only a small cackle, she got up to reveal an egg that would be talked about for the next 100 years. Before them lay a square egg. Each side was straight, as if drawn with a ruler, and each surface shown in a different color. I see blue, I see yellow, I see red. This is indeed the most fantastic egg I have ever seen, cried the king, and all the hens nodded. It was impossible to say which egg was the most wonderful. So the king decided that all three hens, Dotty, Stalkie, and Plumie, would be made princesses. And from that day to this, they have been the best of friends and have happily gone on laying extraordinary eggs. The end. I see lots of friends have joined us. Hi Clémence, Oscar, and Giacomo. Hi Vivian, hi Carla, hi Lauren, and Henry. Nice to see you joining us for story time. I want to do a poem now that my friend Lauren sometimes does at her story time, because I like it very much. So you can do this sitting down or standing up, but you're going to move your arms up and down. And this is how it goes. Let's go riding in an elevator. Let's go riding in an elevator. First floor, second floor, third floor, fourth floor, fifth floor. Down, down, down. Let's try a little more quickly. Let's go riding in an elevator. Let's go riding in an elevator. First floor, second floor, third floor, fourth, 4th floor, 5th floor, down, down, down. Shall we try it again this time super fast? Let's go riding in an elevator, let's go riding in an elevator, 1st floor, 2nd floor, 3rd floor, 4th floor, 5th floor, down, down, down. Yay, did you do that? Okay, our next story is called Mixed, a colorful story. And I bet you know these colors. You know this color? Red? What's this one? Yellow? How about this one? I see blue. In the beginning, there were three colors. Red, yellow, and blues. Reds were the loudest. La la la la la. Yellows were the brightest. Blues were the coolest. Unlived in color harmony. Until one afternoon when a red said, reds are the best. The yellows disagreed. No, we're the best because we're the brightest. The blues were too cool to even respond, but they do not look happy, do they? Colors decided to live in separate parts of the city. So I see the reds over here, and I see blues here, and I see the yellows over here, and yellow heights. Hmm. But then one day, a yellow noticed a blue, and something happened. I feel so happy when I'm near you, and I feel calm when I'm near you. Oh. Yellow and blue became inseparable. Life felt so vibrant, but not all of colors were happy about it. I don't like yellow's effect on blue. Color shouldn't mix. Blue isn't bright enough for yellow, but yellow and blue loved each other so much they decided to mix. Together they created a new color. Do you know that one? They named her green. Green was bright like yellow and calm like blue, but really she was a color all her own. Everyone was fascinated. She's so cute. I've never seen anyone like her before. Can I hold her? Even the grumpy colors fell in love with green. The colors began to see the new possibilities. Soon other colors were mixed. Do you know this color? I think that's orange. And mixed. Is that purple? Look at all these beautiful colors. There were so many new colors and a lot of new names. Don't forget your glasses lavender. Be careful Jade. Have fun Amber. The old neighborhood of Redville, the old neighborhoods of Redville, Blue Town, and Yellow Heights didn't make sense anymore. Everyone wanted to live together, so they rebuilt the city. The new city was full of color. It wasn't perfect, but it was home. There's their city. The end. Let's do a poem and then we have another story with music. So if you've come to Storytimes at the library you might know this poem about the turtle. So it has words, but you can do things with your hands to help you remember the words. So I'm going to pretend that my fist is a turtle. There was a little turtle. She lived in a box. She swam in the river and she climbed on the rocks. She snapped at a mosquito. She snapped at a flea. She snapped at a minnow and she snapped at me. Whoops wrong way. She caught the mosquito. She caught the minnow, but she didn't catch me. Okay, our next story is called Abbe Yo-Yo. And this story has some music in it because there's a little boy who plays the ukulele. And I have a little boy here. Well, he's actually a big boy. His name is John and he's going to play the ukulele. So this is Abbe Yo-Yo. It's based on a South African lullaby and folk story and it's by Pete Seeger. Get myself in there. Once upon a time there was a little boy who played the ukulele. Around town he'd go, clink. Grown-ups would say, take that thing out of here. Not only that, the boy's father got in trouble. The boy's father was a magician. He had a magic wand. He'd go zoop, zoop, and make things disappear. But he played too many tricks on people. He'd come up to someone about to drink a nice cold glass of something, zoop. The glass disappears. Someone doing a hard job of work, zoop, zoop, zoop. Up comes the father with his magic wand, zoop. No saw. See, it's disappearing. He'd come home to someone about to sit down after a hard day's work, zoop. No chair. People said to the father, you get out of here too. Take your magic wand and your tricks and you and your son just get. The boy and his father were ostracized. This means they made them live on the edge of town. Now in this town they used to tell stories. The old people used to tell stories about the giants that lived in the old days. They used to talk about a giant named Abiyoyo. They said he was as tall as a tree and could eat people up. Of course, nobody believed that story but they told it anyway. One day, one day the sun rose blood red over the hill. The first people got up and looked over out the windows. They saw a great big shadow in front of the sun that could feel the whole ground shake. Fainted, run for your lives. Abiyoyo is coming. He comes to the sheep pasture. He grabs a whole sheep. He comes to the cow pasture. He grabs a whole cow. Man yelled, grab your most precious possessions and run, run. Just then the boy and his father woke up. Hey, Pa, what's coming over the fields? Why, son, that's Abiyoyo. Oh, if only I could get him to lie down. I could make him disappear. The boy says, come with me, Pa. He grabbed his father by one hand. The father gets the magic wand and the boy gets his ukulele. They run across the fields. People yell, don't go near him. He'll eat you alive. There was Abiyoyo. He had long fingernails because he never cut them. He had slobbery teeth because he didn't brush them. Stinking feet because he didn't wash them. Madded hair because he didn't comb it. He raised up with his claws. Just then the boy whips out his ukulele. Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo. Well, you know, the giant had never heard a song about himself before. A foolish grin spread over his face and the giant started to dance. Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo. The boy went faster. Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo. The giant got out of breath. He staggered. He fell down flat on the ground. Up steps the father. Zoop, zoop. People looked out their windows. He's gone. Abiyoyos disappeared. The people ran across the fields. They lifted the boy and the father up on their shoulders. They said, come back to town. Bring your darn ukulele. We don't care anymore. And they all sang, Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo. We're going to do one more. One of my favorite authors for story time. Is that Wise Pig? This pig has a boot on his head. Or you could say a galosh. Is that Wise Pig? Who wants to help me make soup? I do. Here's one onion. Here are two cabbages. Relas. Three umbrellas in the soup. Is that Wise Pig? Oh, I guess not. Now, here are one, two, three, four, four tomatoes. Here are one, two, three, four, five potatoes. And here are six galoshes. One, two, three, four, five, six. What? Six galoshes in the soup. Is that Wise Pig? I guess not. Now, here are seven green beans. Here are eight Brussels sprouts. And here are, hmm, what's next? Nine carrots. Yay! Pretty wise, huh? Yes. And? I asked ten hungry friends to join us. Ten hungry piggies. Was that Wise Pig? Uh-oh. Better use these. The umbrellas and galoshes were pretty Wise Pig. Thanks, cow. There's just one thing missing. Really? What's that pig? Uh, pizza? Pizza. That's it for stories, folks. Thanks for joining me. We'll see you next time.