Once upon a time there was a little boy. He didn't like to go to bed. It came time to say good night and go upstairs. He wanted to stay where the fire crackled in the fireplace. He wanted to be where the lamp was lit. He wanted to stay with @Mommy and @Daddy and @Teddy. He wanted to look at picture books. He wanted to play games.
"I don't want to go to bed," he said. He said it very loudly. "I don't like my bed," he added. He added it very loudly. "I wish I didn't have a bed," he said. He said that part very loudly.
Upstairs in the little boy's bedroom, the little white bed heard. It was waiting for the boy. It was all warm and cozy. Its cover was tucked back to welcome him. Its pillow was full of dreams. It was going to tell the boy stories when he fell asleep.
When the little boy said what he did, the little white bed felt very sad. It decided to go away. The little white bed rolled out of its corner. It rolled out of the little boy's room and down the hall. It rolled along until it came to the front stairs. Then the little white bed started down the stairs. Bump, bump, bump. Down the stairs it went.
It rolled across the front hall. It squeaked and creaked. And it went out of the front door. When the boy went into his room, the little white bed was gone, gone, gone!
The little boy looked at his mother. His mother looked very sad.
The little boy looked at his father. His father looked sad, too.
"It's too bad, son," they said. "You will have no little white bed to sleep in tonight.
