The den was busy and warm. By the window, a tiny cradle waited.
"A new baby is coming," floated across the den. Pippin dropped the blocks with a clatter.
Pippin stared at the little cradle. Then one block got a quiet kick under the rug.
All day, Pippin stayed close and tried to help.
Pippin grabbed a blanket to fold. Flip! It flopped right over Pippin's head.
Pippin wobbled like a fox-burrito. A tiny "hmph" slipped out.
When the blanket slid down, Pippin peeked at the bright yellow baby blanket on the floor.
Next, Pippin gathered soft moss for the baby basket.
Tiny socks in a row. Little pillow, pat pat pat. Everything for the baby looked so small.
Pippin ran a paw along the fuzzy edge and asked, "Will there still be room for me?"
Pippin tucked into a corner behind the rocking chair while the den filled with the smell of warm bread and busy tap-tap paws.
Then Pippin heard, "We still need a special spot for Pippin's books."
Pop! Out came Pippin. Scrrrape went a cushion across the floor.
Together, the cushion and books made a nook right beside the cradle. One lamp made both spaces glow.
Pippin climbed into the new spot with a favorite book. Nearby, the cradle rocked gently. Ting went a little bell.
Pippin smiled. "This spot is for stories for me and the baby."
