It seems Paradiddle is a very busy little goat, so I was only able to fit one adventure in this week. I wouldn't want to have the poor kid get into five different scrapes at once, anyway.
Paradiddle Puddles and the Bridge
I know a gleeful, little goat called Paradiddle Puddles:
A leaper and a laugher and a getter-into-muddles.
Paradiddle's sister got to go to school each day,
But little Paradiddle only got to walk part-way.
"Don't cross the bridge," his mother said. "It's straight back home you trot!"
And every day he wondered to himself, "Why not? Why not?"
On Monday Paradiddle walked his sister to the bridge.
On Tuesday, though, he touched it—just a tiny, little smidge.
Wednesday he tap-tapped it and he giggled at the sound.
Thursday he put two hoofs on before he turned around.
Friday came. Paradiddle watched his sister go.
He wondered, "What will happen?" and he nudged it with a toe.
Paradiddle looked to left and right. Nobody there.
He took a step. Another. "What will happen if I dare?"
"What will happen?" One more step.
"What will happen?" Just one more—
And Paradiddle raced across to reach the other shore.
Nothing happened. Disappointed, Paradiddle turned around—
And what happened was his mother at the window, glaring down.
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