The Moon Picnic

Mr. Squishy packed three cups, three napkins and three little sandwiches for a picnic under the moon. He had chosen the exact place where the moon would appear between two trees.

Clouds arrived first. Then rain. The picnic blanket became a roof for a beetle, and the sandwiches went back into their tin. Mr. Squishy sighed the kind of sigh that makes your shoulders sink.

Little Miss Squishy found a puddle reflecting the streetlamp. Mrs. Squishy held a paper lantern above it. They ate by lantern light and watched the beetle explore its new blanket house.

‘This is not the moon picnic,’ Mr. Squishy said. Then he smiled. ‘It may be the better picnic.’ When the clouds moved, the real moon came out just in time for dessert.