Little Hedgehog's New Year's Noon 2025: A Story for Kids
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This is Ria. Welcome to Little Stories for Tiny People. Ooh, it's so cold in here. Let me just strike up a fire in my fireplace. There. Oh, someone's at the door. Hello? Oh, hi. Uh-huh. Um, I could try.

Hold on just one sec, 'cause I'm kind of in the middle of something. No, it's okay. I'll be right back. So there's a zebra at my studio door, and he wants directions to the closest watering hole. So this'll just take a minute. Let me just... I'll be right back.

Okay, so you're gonna go to the end of this hallway, hang a left, then take a right out the front door, then you'll head west for about 11.3 miles. And you can't miss it. Yeah, sure thing! Bye! Well that was odd. That's only the second zebra that's ever come to my studio.

You know, that reminds me of my Little Hedgehog's New Year's Noon story from last year. That was fun. Anywho, I can't remember what story I'm sharing today. Let me just flip through this enormous stack of papers.

What? You're not going to believe this. In an astonishing coincidence, the story I have for you today is about New Year's Noon. There are no zebras this year. Let's get to it. It's called Little Hedgehog's New Year's Noon 2025. Take it away, Riley.

Remember, there are no pictures. You have to imagine the pictures in your mind. You can imagine them however you want. Okay, here we go. ♪

It all started with a staring contest. Little Hedgehog and Bebe, her best friend of all time, were in Little Hedgehog's underground burrow knitting garments for Little Guy, Little Hedgehog's pet chameleon. Little Guy, you are going to look so cute at New Year's Noon with your new sweater. And your new booties. Yay! Yay. Yay.

When Little Hedgehog said, Bebe, now that little guy is dressed, I was thinking we should do a staring contest. I have an unblemished winning record of staring contests. I never lose. I just want to see how long I can hold on. Okay. The two best friends sat down on the floor and faced each other. Three, two, one.

One stare! Little Hedgehog and her best friend stared into one another's eyes, trying not to blink. Well, Little Hedgehog tried not to blink. Bebe didn't need to try. She could go hours without blinking if need be. After 11.3 seconds, Little Hedgehog exclaimed, My eyes are like a desert! You win, Bebe! They both giggled. Woohoo!

Then, Bebe said something completely unexpected. "Little Hedgehog, I did not want to tell you this 15.3 seconds ago because it might have ruined our contest, but I believe you have polka dot eye." Little Hedgehog ran out of her bedroom, with Bebe trailing behind her, and went straight for the tea kettle.

She leaned in and stared at her warped reflection. I look funny in this kettle, Bebe. Bebe leaned over, as do I. But also, you're right, Bebe. I have the dreaded polka dot.

Polka-dot eye was a notoriously contagious illness that caused itching, swelling, and the appearance of small reddish, purplish speckles to appear on the eyeball. It was a common ailment among young hedgehogs and elder elephant shrews. But I should really let a doctor take it from here.

Because as soon as Mr. Hedgehog got a look at his tiny daughter's right eye, that's exactly where he took her. Bebe insisted on tagging along. I did make the preliminary diagnosis, Mr. Hedgehog. All right, come on.

When they reached Dr. Ratzberger's office, they learned that the good doctor was away at a conference. "'She's a highly sought-after speaker,' said the stylish ferret at the front desk. "'Mostly on the topic of stinging nettles.'"

"Alright," Mr. Hedgehog said. "Is Dr. Mouseburger available?" "Unfortunately, Dr. Mouseburger is out sick with popsicle fever." "Okay." "Let's see, let's see," the ferret said, checking her notes. "Gimme one second." The ferret picked up the phone and pressed a button. "Nancy? Is Dr. Skunksburger in? Oh, I see. What about Dr. Cheeseburger?"

A pond cruise? Didn't he just take a vacation? How about Dr. Weaselberger? You're kidding.

Okay, well, I have a darling little porcupine here with polka dot eye and... Oh! Yes, that's great. I'll send them up in a minute. So, unfortunately, Dr. Ratzberger, Dr. Mouseberger, Dr. Skunksberger, Dr. Cheeseburger, and Dr. Weaselberger are all out today, if you can believe it. Is there a doctor we can see? Mr. Hedgehog said. Absolutely. Head on up to the second floor. Okay.

You're meeting with Dr. Dan. Dr. Dan was surprisingly straightforward.

"'Yep, that's polka dot eye, all right.' "'Oh, okay,' Mr. Hedgehog said. He was caught off guard by how simple a diagnosis this was, given his other experiences at this office. "'Give her these eye drops every four hours. The polka dots may get worse for a few days, and there could be some, you know, gunk in there.'"

That's a technical term. Dr. Dan did not smile when he said this, so it was difficult to tell whether it was a joke. But they should clear up within five days. Dr. Dan said, handing Mr. Hedgehog a tiny bottle. I love eyedrops, Little Hedgehog exclaimed. I enjoy the challenge eyedrops present. And you'll need to wear this eyepatch. Sweetheart.

Swiftly, Dr. Dan fastened a little eye patch round little Hedgehog's head. It was lavender and looked quite fashionable. Wow! I love my eye patch! Mr. Hedgehog chuckled. Be

Bebe grinned. Just keep that on for the next five days. Also do some eye stretches. Like this. Dr. Dan squinted, then opened his eyes widely, then repeated this several times. I love stretches!

Yay! Yay. Okay, thank you, Doctor. Sure thing. Y'all have any plans coming up? We've been knitting outfits for my pet chameleon, little guy. I want to make him a scarf that he can toss casually over his shoulder. I would like to make him a briefcase. Sounds exciting, kids. The three hedgehogs moved towards the door. Then, little hedgehog remembered something very thrilling.

And we're going to New Year's Noon in two days, and I can't wait to implement my new rolling strategy. Dr. Dan had been scribbling notes on a clipboard. He glanced up at his small patient. New rolling strategy. I've been practicing nightly for 23 days. I mean weeks.

Dr. Dan frowned. Oh, you're not going to be able to do any rolling. Oh? Mr. Hedgehog said. With the, uh, the eye patch? Your daughter won't have the necessary depth perception for that type of thing. Depth perception? Little Hedgehog and Bebe exchanged a significant, astonished look. Yeah, depth perception. You don't have it, kid. No rolling for you.

The entire way home, Little Hedgehog tried to reason her way out of this shocking situation. "But Dad, isn't my eye looking better?" she said, lifting her eye patch. "It looks worse than twenty minutes ago." "Maybe I can take off my eye patch just for the animal hedgehog role." "It's just this one time you have to miss." She kept trying. "Please, Dad, what if I envelop myself in bubble wrap?"

But Mr. Hedgehog never budged.

Meanwhile, Bebe scampered along beside them, listening with half an ear, developing a plan of her own. It was, truly, a marvelous plan. A surprising plan. A plan sure to cheer up her disappointed best friend. Her plan was this. She was going to... I'm just kidding. I can't tell you that. It would

It would ruin the surprise. Two days later, just after dawn, Little Hedgehog, Bebe, and Mr. Hedgehog scampered through the forest to the Great Clearing, the site of the annual New Year's Noon celebrations.

The two friends carried large posters that read, Keep going, you're on a roll, and Keep calm and roll on. Mr. Hedgehog carried a little guy who was dressed warmly in his custom-made knitted hat

booties, and a scarf casually tossed over one shoulder. "BeeBee, I'm so glad we made these posters. I'll at least feel like I'm being a good cheerleader to all the hedgehogs who have depth perception," Little Hedgehog said, straightening her eye patch with a free paw. "Indeed, I'm sure they will appreciate the number of stickers we included."

As the hedgehogs made their way closer to their destination, the trail filled up with more and more hedgehogs, all heading the same way.

Some were dressed in tracksuits, some were bundled in coats. A few carried pets, such as crickets they did not intend to eat, on their shoulders. Dozens and dozens of hedgehogs spilled onto the trail, filling the early morning forest air with the sound of leaves rustling beneath tiny feet.

After all, it was the biggest event of the year. Mr. Hedgehog noticed Bebe was speeding up, and he worried he might lose sight of her in the crowd. "Hey, Bebe! Why are you scampering so fast? What's the rush?" Bebe slowed her pace. "My apologies, Mr. Hedgehog.

I have been donning ankle weights and wearing them to school for the past three weeks to approximate the experience of being beset with exhaustion in preparation for the upcoming trip my mother and I are taking in five weeks' time. We will be traversing a temperate rainforest."

Okay. Without my ankle weights, my scamper speed has increased by at least 37%. Wow, Bebe! That's impressive! Thank you, though it is entirely reproducible. Mr. Hedgehog, you are welcome to borrow my ankle weights when I am done with the program. Uh, thanks, Bebe. I'll consider that. All of that about the training with the ankle weights was absolutely true, of course. But,

But also, Bebe simply could not wait to enact her marvelous plan. It is difficult to fully capture the sense of excitement and electric energy buzzing around the big clearing, where hundreds and hundreds of hedgehogs milled about in the first hours of the morning.

Owls who had signed no-eat agreements perched as sentries in the surrounding trees, watching for possible danger. There were stages set up at different spots in the large clearing, hosting various performances. Magicians, singers, dance troupes,

Every so often, an announcement filtered down from speakers placed in trees. "Will the owner of a box turtle named Fred please move your turtle? He has fallen asleep and is currently blocking our medical cart." There was a sense of possibility in the air, as if anything could happen.

Little Hedgehog, I am noticing that the sky is currently the exact color of your eye patch. I planned that, BB. You know how I love color coordination. The two friends giggled. Hee hee hee!

Huh, lots of new stuff this year, Mr. Hedgehog remarked. Little Guy sat on his shoulder prickles, glancing around in wide-eyed wonderment. Step right up, kids, and guess how many scorpions are in this jar. Mr. Hedgehog, Little Hedgehog, and BB turned to see a snappily-dressed smallish hedgehog inside a little booth.

An enormous jar, apparently filled with scorpions, sat on the booth's counter. Dad, can we guess how many scorpions are in that jar? Mr. Hedgehog, I am extremely good at this type of challenge. Okay, I guess that's fine. Just keep your distance. The hedgehog behind the booth pressed a button as they approached. Guess how many? Guess, guess how many? How many?

Hey kids, ready to guess how many scorpions are in this jar? Little hedgehog, you go first. I need several seconds to finish my calculations. Okay. The jar, that's secure, right?

Mr. Hedgehog said, peering at the scorpions who were climbing over one another a bit energetically. "Yeah, sure," the hedgehog said without any real confidence. "I have my answer!" "Go ahead, kid." "Twenty-nine scorpions!" "Good guess." "Hey!" "But no."

"'All right, what about you, kid?' the hedgehog said, turning to Bebe. Bebe watched with mild alarm as a scorpion lifted the lid of the jar, scrambled down the side of it, and skittered out of sight behind the booth. As of sixty seconds ago, there were precisely thirty-four scorpions inside the jar."

However, recently, within the last 15 seconds, one scorpion escaped from the jar. There are now 33. The snappily dressed hedgehog's eyes went wide. What?

That's impossible. Bebe, is that true? Mr. Hedgehog said, scowling as he searched the area. Dad, Bebe is never wrong about things like this, Little Hedgehog said solemnly. I believe that absconded scorpion could present a significant risk to... Aw, look, kid. You must be seeing things.

"I assure you my eyes are just..." "Nah, kid. Look, uh, game's over. Here, take this prize and get lost. I mean, have a great time." The snappily dressed hedgehog hastily dug an allen wrench out of his pocket and handed it to Bebe, then pulled a roller curtain down, blocking the booth from view.

After Mr. Hedgehog reported the missing scorpion to an uninterested-looking security toad... You mean you want the scorpion returned to you, sir? No, I would like it caught and dealt with. Sure thing. No problem. They all headed to the main stage to see a performance by a group of skunks. Give it up for the Stinky Sopranos! Seriously, you better clap or else!

It was a strange, vaguely threatening performance. To spray, to spray is the question. Which everyone applauded thoroughly. Next, Little Hedgehog tried to get permission to participate in the bullfrog race. Dad, I'll be riding on the back of a competent bullfrog. They seem highly competent, Mr. Hedgehog. I won't even need depth perception.

No. Then, they moseyed over to the auction taking place on the secondary stage. Welcome, one and all, to our very first friend auction. You heard that right, we are auctioning off the best friends money and crickets can buy. Up first is Billy P. Goat. Billy, tell the crowd a little about yourself. Well, I'll eat anything. So if we go out to lunch, you can pick the restaurant.

What a guy. You hear that? What a guy. Who wouldn't want to be friends with Billy P. Goat? Am I right? Oh, Pat.

One hedgehog said loudly. Little Hedgehog and Bebe exchanged a look. We'll start the bidding at five crickets. For just five crickets, you can be friends with Billy P. Goat. Just five crickets. Do I hear five crickets? Five crickets. Yelled a hedgehog wearing a green kerchief around his neck. Billy P., let's sweeten the deal. Tell the crowd what kinds of things you've done for friends in the past. Last

Last year, I helped my friend replace a light bulb. Plus, I ate the old one so he did not have to dispose of it.

Now that's a good friend. Do I hear six crickets? Just six crickets to be friends with Billy P. Six crickets! It went on like this for quite some time until finally, after it was revealed that Billy P. once tuned a friend's piano, the bidding rocketed upwards. Going once, going twice, sold at a very low price of 37 crickets. Woo!

Bebe, I'd give all my crickets to have a friend like you. Thankfully, we can simply share our crickets. No payment necessary.

By the time the friend auction ended and five new pairs of friends headed off to have lunch and help each other with things like getting rides to the airport, it was nearly midday. "Bibi, I can't believe the morning passed so quickly. Can you believe it?" "I cannot."

All rollers should make their way to the big hill to prepare for the annual Hedgehog Roll. Also, all medical personnel please report to booth 932 to address an alleged incident involving a scorpion.

Everyone else can disregard that particular message, aside from medical personnel who should pay close attention and immediately make your way to booth 932. Little Hedgehog, Mr. Hedgehog, BB, and even Little Guy exchanged significant looks. But it was time for the main event.

They all scampered towards the big hill. On the way, they passed a tough hedgehog trainer giving his protege some last-minute advice. Remember, I want to see head-hopping, okay? That's our strategy. Remind me what that means, coach? You hop from hedgehog head to hedgehog head. I want to see gentle hops. No injuries. I could get in trouble if... Never mind. Look, you hop...

land on somebody's head for barely a second, hop again, all the way down the hill. What about rolling?

I thought we were supposed to... You want to get down there first, don't you? Uh, I guess so. Little Hedgehog turned to her best friend. Bebe. Yes, Little Hedgehog. Hearing that tough trainer, it did make me feel a bit disappointed that I can't roll this year. Little Hedgehog touched a paw to her lavender eye patch. Well, maybe something will happen that will cheer you up.

"'Maybe.' "'All right, girls, this spot looks as good as any,' Mr. Hedgehog said, stopping midway down the big hill. "'Perfect, Dad!' "'This is an excellent choice, Mr. Hedgehog. You will both have a good view of—' "'Never mind.' Mr. Hedgehog did not notice Bebe trailing off mid-sentence."

He also did not notice her silently sneaking away. He was focused on his daughter, who had lifted her eye patch. She was staring into the middle distance, squinting repeatedly. "Whatcha doing there, honey?" "Just doing my eye stretches, Dad," Little Hedgehog said with a giggle.

Mr. Hedgehog chuckled. Many other hedgehogs were also doing their stretches, leg stretches, to prepare for the annual hedgehog roll. There was a large throng of such hedgehogs at the peak of the hill, readying themselves for the big event.

Rollers, take your positions. It's time for the annual Hedgehog Roll to commence. Also, if there are any additional medical personnel available, please proceed to booth 37 to deal with an additional alleged incident involving a scorpion.

Little Hedgehog turned to her best friend with sparkling eyes in order to share an enthusiastic, significant look. But Bebe was nowhere in sight.

Dad, where is Bebe? Huh? Mr. Hedgehog said, looking around. From his shoulder, wrapped in his cozy scarf, little guy, who I had definitely not forgotten was there until this very moment, also glanced around, blinking his big eyes.

Bebe has absconded! Like the scorpion! It was true. Bebe had absconded in similar fashion to the scorpion, although she was far less dangerous, except two crickets, which were no match for her expertly crafted snares. But that's not really relevant to this story. The countdown began. Ten! Nine!

"Dad, where could she be?" Little Hedgehog exclaimed as hundreds of hedgehogs curled themselves into prickly balls at the top of the hill. "I'm sure she's fine. This is the same kid who goes on quarterly survival expeditions. She'll turn up." Little Hedgehog reluctantly held up her sign that read, "Keep going. You're on a roll."

still using her one good eye to search for her best friend. Under the glowing midday sun, hundreds of hedgehogs spilled down from the top of the big hill, creating the effect of a wave of prickles catching the light.

Some of them rolled in such tight coils that their heads were nowhere to be seen. Others toppled head over feet, cackling as they went.

Still others employed the latest tough training advice to hop from hedgehog head to hedgehog head to varied effect. The main pack of rollers passed, hurtling towards the bottom of the hill, followed by a slower, more deliberate group that included elder hedgehogs, cautious hedgehogs, and...

Bebe? Dad, it's Bebe! But it couldn't be Bebe, could it?

If you recall, the rolling gene did not run in Bebe's family. My mom says our family does not have the rolling gene. But, miraculously, it was Bebe. Huh, didn't see that one coming, Mr. Hedgehog said with a yawn. He and his daughter, and his daughter's delightful pet chameleon, watched...

as Bebe rolled past them down the big hill. She did not roll in the traditional head-over-feet fashion, but sideways, without being curled up at all.

It was more of a tumble, if we're getting technical, but it got the job done. I guess Bebe has been keeping this in her back pocket this whole time. Little Hedgehog and Mr. Hedgehog scampered down to the finish line.

They found Bebe laying on crisp fallen leaves, staring up at the bright blue sky. Happy New Year's Noon, Bebe. Thank you, little hedgehog. Happy New Year's Noon, kiddo. Thank you, Mr. Hedgehog. That was me, Bebe. That was my dad voice. That sounded nothing like me. Happy New Year's Noon, Bebe. Thank you, real Mr. Hedgehog.

After getting to her feet, and after Little Hedgehog's repeated requests, "Please can you tell us, please please can you tell us?" Bibi explained how she'd been able to overcome her family's lack of a rolling gene. "I was recently rereading the diaries of the late Giancarlo D. Pricolito that I keep in the Great Adventurers section of my bookshelf.

In one memorable passage, he describes his unlikely survival after a shipwreck involving a giant hermit crab.

Stranded on a remote archipelago, he drank rainwater caught in a single concave leaf and ate only the seeds of the famously bitter iguana plant for three thousand and two days until being rescued by a band of traveling banjo players who took a wrong turn on their way to a neighboring island.

Wow, BB! What does this have to do with... Excellent question, Mr. Hedgehog. Upon reflecting on Sir Pricklytoe's harrowing experience, I reasoned that if he could survive in such trying circumstances, I could survive rolling down a hill in order to cheer up my best friend. Listen.

Little Hedgehog grinned prickle to prickle. Then she said, "'Bebe, my dad said you've been keeping something in your back pocket.'" Little Hedgehog, that was just a figure of— "'It is true. Presently, Bebe withdrew a paper from the back pocket of her fanny pack.'"

Here, Mr. Hedgehog, please do the honors since you somehow mysteriously guessed that I had been keeping something in my back pocket. Mr. Hedgehog chuckled to himself and read from the paper. This certificate is awarded to B.B. Hedgehog for completing the official annual hedgehog roll training course for hedgehogs who do not have the rolling gene.

Bebe smiled bashfully. "'I'm officially cheered up, Bebe. You are the best friend a hedgehog could ever have.' "'Thank you.' "'And I think my eye is better. Does it look better?' Little Hedgehog said, lifting her eye patch. "'No.' "'No matter. It was still a wonderful day, and a perfect beginning to a new year.'"

I hope you have a very happy new year, too. Little Stories for Tiny People is written, performed, and produced by me, Rhea Pector. My in-house technical director, Peter Kay, runs my website and puts my stories in the internet for all of you to enjoy. Thank you so much to my Little Stories Premium subscribers.

who are making it possible for me to keep doing this. If you'd like to get more of the stories you love, access to Little Stories for Sleep, an exclusive bedtime podcast, and ad-free listening, visit littlestoriespremium.com to join or to gift.

a subscription. Thank you to Riley for the super important reminder message at the beginning. And thank you to the many premium subscribers who supplied sound effects used in

in this story. Thank you to Ellie, Lander, Presley, Gabe, Gavin, Rain, Sylvie, Juliet, Mia, Madeline, Riley, Isa, Sophie, Atticus, Orla, Clancy, Catalina, Emery, Camden, Yachim, Zora, Eleanor,

Sophie, Kenzie, Alice, Tama, Luna, Felix, Clem, Autumn, Emily, Charlie, Eponine, Remy, Micah, Lorelai, Maxwell, Lyra, Eddie, Esri,

Annabelle, Ivy, Fiona, Flora, Alma, and Andrew. And thank you, as always, for listening in.