Skippyjon Jones

Living in a small, comfortable house with blue shutters and a chimney puffing fluffy clouds like cotton candy was a curious Siamese kitty named Skippyjon Jones. Still, Skippyjon was unlike any other cat. His tail was too fluffy for his body, his ears were too large for his head, and his imagination was much too expansive for the living room.

One sunny afternoon, Skippyjon discovered he was once more in jeopardy.

Looking at the heap of feathers previously her preferred throw cushion, Mama Junebug Jones exclaimed, “Skippyjon!” “You are not a bird hunter, a Siamese cat, and most certainly not a Chihuahua!”

Skippyjon slanted his head and blinked his large blue eyes. “But Mama, I’m El Skippito Friskito, the bravest Chihuahua sword-fighter in all of Mexicali!” Not just a Siamese cat.

Mama grinned and groaned. “Into your room, small cat. Time for some quiet contemplation.

Mama Junebug was well aware, though, that Skippyjon did not only think when he entered his chamber. No, Skippyjon imagined.

Skippyjon staggered into his bed, creaking like an old pirate ship. Puffed out his chest and glanced in the mirror.

“Hola, I am El Skippito Friskito!” he murmured. “I fear none evil, none bee, none Bandito!”

His room’s walls then melted into dunes and sunlight. The lamp became a brilliant moon, and the bed became a desert burro. Cactus shadows moved, and somewhere in the breeze a mariachi band performed a song especially for him.

Out of the sand sprang Los Chimichangos, a band of courageous, naive, tail-wagging Chihuahuas with hearts as large as their ambitions and brilliant bandanas.

Skippito! yelled Don Diego, the Chimichangos’ leader. “You arrive right on time. All of our beans have been taken by the terrible Bumblebeeto Bandito!

“ALL the beans?” Skippyjon gasped and grabbed his tortilla chip weapon.

“Sí!” And our fiesta cannot take place without our beans!

Tall on his tortilla saddle, Skippyjon stood, “Not fear, friends. Here to rescue the day is El Skippito Friskito!

And with that, the mission started.

Skippyjon and his band of small heroes marched toward the dark cave of the Bumblebeeto Bandito, the desert night glittering with stars. Skippyjon’s tail switched behind him like a hero’s cape.

“Careful,” Don Diego said in a whisper. He is vast. He is lively. He also features a mustache.

“A bee with a mustache?” Skippyjon murmured in response.

Sí.. one with curls. fairly fashionable. But rather risky.

The air smelled like honey and beans as they slipped into the cave. The chimichangos tiptoed. Skippyjon grabbed his chip-sword. Then buzz! buzz!

Out zipped the Bandito from Bumblebees! He had a striped yellow tummy, little black boots, and indeed a mustache curling like cinnamon sticks. Guarding a large pot loaded with mystical beans, he whirled about the cave.

“No beans for you,” he zzz-ed. “These belong to me for eternity!!”

But Señor Bandito, said Skippyjon boldly as he stepped forward. Beans are meant to be shared. There is no music, no laughing, no kindness without them.

The Bandito stopped right in the middle buzz.

“Sharing?” he said. But I never got to offer. I lived in my hive alone, always. Nobody ever stored any beans for me.

Skippyjon lowered his weapon. Come with us then. We will share our songs, beans, and sunshine.

The Chimichangos waved their tails in unison.

The mustache of the Bumblebee jerked. Then he quietly, slowly landed and grinned.

Could I perhaps have a sombrero as well?

The Chihuahuas cried out, “Of Course!”

That night the desert flowered with laughter beneath a velvet sky speckled with stars. Skippyjon strummed a small guitar; the Bumblebeeto Bandito danced a soft bee-wiggle; the Chimichangos clapped their small paws in time.

Enough beans for everyone, enough happiness for the planet, and enough love to make even the loneliest bee comfortable.

And Skippyjon felt his eyes go sleepy as the fire crackled low and the music subsided to a murmur. The desert started to fade, the stars dimmed, and the buzz of the ceiling fan hummed back into his chamber.

Mama Junebug Jones dropped in a glance. Curled on his bed, Skippyjon was grinning and embracing a fluffy blanket.

She stepped softly over to kiss his forehead. Sweet dreams, my tiny Siamese Chihuahua.

“No bean too big… for El Skippito Friskito,” Skippyjon said in his sleep.

The fiesta never stopped in his dreams either.

Why is Skippyjon Jones such a wonderful bedtime story for kids and adults to share?

A wonderful nighttime narrative, Skippyjon Jones catches the beauty of imagination, companionship, and generosity. It leaves readers delighted and ready for sweet dreams with its humorous hero, a Siamese kitten who dreams of being a bold Chihuahua, and a pleasant adventure full of sharing and inclusion. Storieslet, a comfortable place for readers with a wide spectrum of tales including bedtime stories, moral stories, fairytales, horror stories, kids’ stories, and short stories to fit every mood and situation, features more stories like this.