Crown of Puddles
Rain tapped the window all morning. Laney flattened her nose against the glass. "No puddle-jumping today," she sighed. Unicorn sighed too, so hard that the curtains puffed. Then Laney gasped. "Wait! Where is my puddle-jump crown?"
They searched the sofa. Laney found three socks and a spoon. Unicorn found a cracker, which he ate immediately. "That is not a crown," said Laney, giggling. Then she spotted a trail of tiny glitter leading toward the stairs.
The glitter climbed all the way up to the attic. Laney followed it between boxes, one pink sparkle at a time. Unicorn tiptoed behind her, his horn bumping a beam. Under the round window sat the trunk, and there, hanging off the lid, was the Puddle-Jump Crown.
Laney set the crown on her head. It fit perfectly. "Unicorn," she announced, "this calls for a party. A rainy one!" Unicorn stamped a hoof, ready. But where should it be, with the rain drumming above them?
Laney looked at the round window, then at the stairs, then at her pink Rubber Boots waiting far below. She wiggled her toes. Both places sounded wonderful.
Laney pulled on her Rubber Boots and ran to the Back Porch. Rain poured off the roof in silver strings. She jumped into the biggest puddle, and the splash soaked Unicorn from horn to tail.
Unicorn shook himself like a wet dog and sprayed Laney right back. They jumped, spun and splashed until every puddle was a drum. Laney made up a song about boots, and Unicorn hummed the loud part.
When the party ended, Laney peeked into her left boot. A tiny frog sat inside, wearing a drop of glitter like a crown of his own. "You were the guest of honor," she told him, and Unicorn nodded.
