Career Night for Little Hedgehog: A Story for Kids
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This is Ria. Welcome to Little Stories for Tiny People. When I was little, I had no idea that when I grew up, I'd be doing this.

Telling ridiculous stories in a tiny closet. I mean, studio. Complete with a fireplace, a stack of breakable plates, and opinionated spiders loitering in the uppermost corners. But here we are. It's been a long, meandering journey. It's impossible to know for sure what you'll end up doing in life.

But it's fun, isn't it, to daydream of what might be. You could end up as a horsefly trainer, a homesteader, a sock darner, a pincushion tester, a typewriter refurbisher. The possibilities are endless. That's what this story is about. Let's hear it. It's called...

Career Night for Little Hedgehog. Take it away, Grayson. Remember, there are no pictures. You'll have to imagine the pictures in your mind. You can imagine them however you want. Okay, here we go.

Mr. Hedgehog topped off his steaming mug of tea and took a seat at the table in his underground burrow. It was beautifully quiet. He enjoyed waking early at dusk and watching the last of the sun slip behind the hill through the small kitchen window. Oh, how he savored these silent, blissful minutes.

before night truly fell. He closed his eyes and took a sip of his tea. "Hello, Dad!" Mr. Hedgehog sighed.

"Good morning, honey." His daughter, Little Hedgehog, stood very close to him with a triumphant and eager expression on her face. "Much too triumphant and much too eager for this hour," Mr. Hedgehog thought to himself. "Up early, I see." "I couldn't sleep. In fact, I don't think I slept at all." Mr. Hedgehog was skeptical this was true,

but simply nodded. Nor did I, Mr. Hedgehog. I did not experience a single REM cycle the entire day. At the sound of his daughter's best friend's voice, Mr. Hedgehog raised a brow. Hmm.

Dad, there is another reason we are up early. Okay. Bebe and I have prepared a performance. Okay. We prepared a compelling performance to coerce, I mean, persuade you of something, Mr. Hedgehog. Okay. Okay.

Mr. Hedgehog set down his mug of tea and crossed his paws over his chest. His tiny daughter and her best friend of all time crouched on the floor and nodded to one another. On three, they leapt into the air. Career night! Career night! Show your stuff! On career night! Bring your typewriter! To career night! Display your book!

books at career night. As the two tiny hedgehogs did something close to singing, little hedgehog twirled and did some high kicks, while BB stood in place and swayed lightly back and forth. Inspire the youth at career night. Will you be

Career night. At this, the two friends spun in circles and ended with their paws thrown upwards. They held their positions for a beat, smiling. Mr. Hedgehog stifled a laugh.

Finally, Little Hedgehog said, Dad, will you please come to career night? Please, please, will you, Dad, please, will you? Bebe followed up with, Mr. Hedgehog, the next generation would benefit from your wisdom and guidance.

Mr. Hedgehog took a sip of his tea. To understand how we got here, to where Little Hedgehog and Bebe were pleading with Mr. Hedgehog to inspire the youths with his expertise as a successful non-fiction book author, we must go back in time to their previous night at school. Little

Little Hedgehog and Bebe were paw-painting in art class when the intercom crackled to life. "Attention students, this is Principal Petri Dish." Immediately, the children's heads upturned to listen. Startled, several students made unfortunate swipes in their papers. "Aw man, I gave my prairie dog a mustache." "I have somewhat of a jarring announcement to make regarding our upcoming career night."

which, as you know, is just two nights away. The students did know this, as they had been reminded of it, theatrically, several times by Ms. Swindletooth, the school activities director. Career night, the night when you dream of your path in life.

It's almost here. Don't worry, friend. It's coming up around the bend. Anyway, everyone knew career night was approaching. It was one of the most anticipated nights of the school year, as it introduced the children to a great variety of interesting occupations, livelihoods, and a number of worthwhile hobbies.

In years past, Career Night had featured presentations by local grown-ups with titles like "The Life and Dreams of a Hydroponic Worm Farmer."

How to Make It as a Beekeeper, Homesteading, Is It Your Destiny?, and a student favorite, How I Became a Professional Snail Taster. The lineup was always varied and fascinating, and the night usually went off without a hitch. So Principal Petri Dish's warning of a jarring announcement...

sent a ripple of disbelief through art class. Ms. Jazzy, the art teacher, put down her own paws, which were by then covered in green acrylic paint, and appeared up at the speaker in the corner of the room. Unfortunately, we've had a number of ill-timed cancellations by some of our most sought-after presenters.

It amounts to a sort of calamity of coincidence, you might say. We were thrilled to schedule legendary opera singer, Madame Turtledove. Oh wow, what is opera? But she reports having lost her voice due to the bite of a whisper bug. Her doctor expects her to make a full recovery, but she will be unable to sing or speak for several weeks.

Another incredible professional we booked for career night was an alpaca dentist named Dr. Bilson Donnelly. Unfortunately, he was called away to do an emergency root canal on an alpaca named Smee O'Toole.

Next, we received word from a ladybug circus trainer that her ladybugs had quit en masse due to what they described as "unsafe conditions involving a spider." She reports being too distraught to encourage others to follow her career path.

Incredibly, within the same hour, we received a call from the owner of a Pet Rock store saying he had filed for bankruptcy.

The students giggled. And finally, our most anticipated presenter, a world-famous goat wrangler named Garson Whiplash, was offered a last-minute coveted spot in a goat wrangling competition in Brazil after the original contestant came down with a case of food poisoning after eating tainted canned crickets. That's just like my uncle.

Uncle ate bad canned crickets? No, he's a goat wrangler. A great sense of unease fell over art class as the students contemplated what all these separate but temporally related cancellations would mean for career night.

They wouldn't have to wonder for long, because Principal Petri Dish went ahead and told them. Students, we are now short a number of presenters, and while we are all very excited about our three remaining speakers, which include a chess piece whittler, a

A piano tuner and a designer of bespoke socks, we'd prefer to have more... variety. So, with just one night to go, we are calling upon you, the

the youths, to help enlist speakers to join in on the career night fun. At this, Little Hedgehog and Bebe clasped their teensy paws together. When you get home, seek help from your parents in finding the most fascinating and available professionals to inspire you and your classmates to dream big. Bebe, who should we coerce into, I mean persuade?

To present, let us make a list.

Much to Ms. Jazzy's chagrin. But students, we're still in art class. I expect to see some cheerful little trees. Little Hedgehog, Bebe, and a number of other students abandoned their paw paintings in favor of brainstorming speakers who could help save career night. Which brings us back to the moment when Little Hedgehog and Bebe approached Mr. Hedgehog.

Please, Dad, will you please come to Career Night? Please, please, please, will you be our Career Night hero? Please, Dad. I would be happy to. Yay! Yay. But...

I have an important meeting with my editor to discuss my latest book on the history of burrow construction. Oh, understood, Mr. Hedgehog. Bebe, what about your mom? I'm sure she could put together a compelling presentation about wilderness survival, Mr. Hedgehog said, sipping his tea. Indubitably, Mr. Hedgehog. However, tomorrow night my mother is already scheduled to lead a long-awaited workshop entitled...

The Art of the Snare. Cricket Capture for the Masses. Ah, but we have lots of other speakers in mind, Dad. Little Hedgehog nodded to her best friend, and Bebe swiftly withdrew a paper scroll from behind her prickles. Little Hedgehog unfurled it.

and it went rolling across the floor several feet. Mr. Hedgehog peered at his tiny daughter and her best friend. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but

Then closed it. The hedgehog who runs the snail pasta stand at the forest market. We believe his name is Eddie, but it might be Teddy. Uh, no, you cannot invite him to career night. Why not, Dad? He could share his snail pasta nuggets of wisdom, Mr. Hedgehog. I don't even know him. Next.

The rat who sweeps the steps of the museum. He has a great interest in hydroponic farming. I think his name is probably Clive. He did seem like a Clive. Next. Little Hedgehog and Bebe's scroll was long, and they had scrawled many names and or descriptions of area animals in bright blue acrylic paint. The mail delivery rabbit. She is dutiful, Mr. Hedgehog.

She dutifully delivers us the wrong mail on a weekly basis. Oh, one of the owls who provide security at the annual Hedgehog Roll. They sign no-eat agreements, Mr. Hedgehog. Next.

Little Hedgehog and Bebe peered at the scroll, searching for the name of an animal that might be approved. How about someone we actually know? Oh, great idea, Dad! How does he do it? After some brainstorming, Mr. Hedgehog approved a list of three area grown-ups that his tiny daughter and her best friend could invite to career night.

The two small hedgehogs immediately went to find them. "Hello?" "Greetings." "Who is it?" came a muffled voice from the other side of the wooden treehouse door. "Are you here with a crossword puzzle?" "It's Little Hedgehog, your neighbor from down the trail." "And Bebe, your neighbor from round the bend." "We once came to you for help with our treehouse design." But our ideas were complicated and the door swung open.

to reveal a frazzled Ms. Jams, the award-winning architect who Little Hedgehog and Bebe could not afford to hire to help with their treehouse construction, but who they still greatly admired.

She eyed them warily. Oh, yes, I remember you. The small-beaked echidnas. Actually, we're hedged. If you'll excuse me, I'm in the middle of a competitive game of solitaire, so... Ms. Jams began to close the door, but Bebe stuck her foot in it. Ah!

"Ms. Jams, we just need a single minute of your time." "Less than a minute! 20 seconds!" Ms. Jams crossed her paws over her chest. "Our career night at school is in jeopardy!" "The only speakers we have are a chess piece whittler, a piano tuner, and a designer of bespoke socks."

Ms. Jams raised her brow. "It's tomorrow night and please will you present, please please will you?" "The students will be greatly inspired by your award-winning architectural endeavors." Ms. Jams nearly cracked a smile. But only nearly.

Children, I do appreciate the invitation. Yay! Yay. I also agree that I would inspire your classmates. However, tomorrow evening I am to be presented with the Distinguished Spiral Tree Staircase Award. Yay!

It was not until that very moment that Little Hedgehog and Bebe noticed Ms. Jam's many awards glittering in a case behind her. But they only got a quick look because Ms. Jam shut the door. Goodbye, children.

Next, the two friends climbed a tree. It was the only way to reach their next target. I mean, the next esteemed professional approved for invitation by Mr. Hedgehog.

"'Greetings?' B.B. questioned, climbing onto a branch midway up the pine. "'Hello?' Little Hedgehog called, struggling for a foothold on the branch below. All they heard was the whistle of the wind through the night forest. "'B.B., are you sure this is the right—' "'Prickly children?' came a small voice. "'Is that you?'

Little Hedgehog and Bebe smiled prickle to prickle. Bebe helped Little Hedgehog scramble up to the next branch, and together they crept along it, until a magnificent spiderweb came into view.

It was tethered between two branches, and it glistened in the moonlight. In the very center, looking completely at ease, was little Hedgehog and Bebe's babysitter, Miss Estelle.

"'Wow! Mrs. Stell, your web is beautiful this evening!' "'It is truly a work of art.' "'Thank you. I suppose it is pleasing to the eye. Of course, I always aim for function over form, children.' "'Oh, okay,' indubitably. Mrs. Stell skittered across the web and onto the branch where her enormous hedgehog charges stood.'

Clasping their paws together. Tell me succinctly, prickly children, what brings you here at the midnight hour? Well, it's a funny story that begins with a legendary opera singer. And continues with a ladybug circus trainer. And... Succinctly, children, it is crucial to learn how to reach one's point. What?

Oh, okay. Understood. In that case, we'd love for you to speak at our school's career night tomorrow evening. You would surely inspire the youths with your thoroughly researched, empirically sound method of caring for young creatures. It was very dark, given that it was in the middle of the night. Miss Estelle was very small, given that she was a spider. But Little Hedgehog and Bebe each separately believed...

they could just barely make out the smile that crossed her face. Prickly children. Yes. That is us. Tomorrow evening. Yes. That is the date. I am babysitting a turtle baby named Finnegan. Brings.

Excuse me for one moment. That's my telephone. Oh, okay. Fascinating. Miss Estelle skittered along the branch and plucked up the receiver. Hello? Yes, this is she. Beep beep. Little Hedgehog whispered. Yes. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? That while it is extremely disappointing that Miss Estelle cannot present at career night...

Right, right. The mental image of a turtle baby named Finnegan is so... Overwhelmingly adorable that we cannot possibly be upset. Thank you for your patience. That was the mother of a baby pig named Honey Bun. I'll be meeting in three days' time.

I wish I could help you with your special evening. Perhaps next year. And so, with their hearts warmed, the two friends climbed down from the tree. Have a lovely evening, Mrs. Stahl. Be well. And scampered into the night forest.

There was one more name on their list, but Little Hedgehog and Bebe were not entirely sure about it. They stood near his home, thinking it over. "What exactly does he do, Bebe?" "I am not certain. He could speak about his hobby. He seems to have a lot to say on that topic." "Oh, that's true." "Let's go for it." They scampered up to the door and gave it a good knock.

There was no answer. They tried several more times. To no avail. The two friends frowned slightly, feeling the possibility of contributing to the rescue of Career Knight slipping through their tiny paws. Then, Little Hedgehog said brightly, "'I know! Let's leave a note, I think. You are a genius.'"

Bebe helpfully provided a fountain pen, an index card, and a thumbtack from her satchel. You're always prepared, Bebe. I try. Together, they worked on a message. What do you think about the word galvanize? Use it. Bebe, should this be number 13 or number 14? Probably number 13, but I don't think the number is necessary. Okay, whatever.

Little Hedgehog wrote the note in looping longhand. "'There!' she said, affixing it to the door. "'What do you think, Bebe?' "'I think the seventeen exclamation points are a nice touch.' "'Do you think he'll come, Bebe? We don't have any more grown-ups in our pre-approved list.'

I do not know, but we've done all we can. Little Hedgehog and her best friend nodded solemnly, then scampered into the night.

The following evening, Little Hedgehog woke up early to select the perfect outfit for career night. In one of Ms. Swindletooth's musical intercom announcements, she'd encourage the children to dress for the jobs of their dreams. Dress for the job you want, or for the job you

So little Hedgehog went off to school wearing workout shorts, a tank top, a sweatband on her forehead, and leg warmers. I'm a dance choreographer, Dad. Okay, have a good night, sweetie. On the way to school, she met up with Bebe, who wore a beekeeper suit and had a helmet tucked under an arm. Nice, Bebe. I was wondering which job outfit you would go with.

I was torn for eight minutes because there are so many paths I could pursue in life, but many do not have specific outfits associated with them. For example, I could not figure out how to dress like an accountant. Makes total sense. And dollars. Good one, BB. I wonder if her note worked. There is only one way to find out.

The moment of truth fell upon them in the courtyard at school when the students and teachers assembled for career night. The students were dressed in a great variety of outfits. There was a frog wearing medical scrubs, a rabbit in a chef's hat, a raccoon wearing steel-toed boots. "Bee-bee," Little Hedgehog whispered as they took their seats in the fourth row.

What do you think Melvin is dressed as? Bebe studied the young badger for a beat, judging by the tweed jacket with elbow patches. Mm-hmm. And the miner's helmet. Yes? Yes.

and the vial of soil he is holding. Oh, I didn't even see that. I would say, a professor of tunnel archaeology. Wow! Attention students, said Principal Petri Dish at the microphone. Welcome to Forest Little School's annual career night. We are pleased to welcome tonight's speakers.

Little Hedgehog and Bebe peered at the unfamiliar animals standing behind their principal. Do you see him, Bebe? I do not. What if our note was blown away? Or eaten by a silverfish? Please give a warm greeting to Chess Piece Whittler, Prescott Nightly Top, Piano Tuner, Melody Turnstile, Bespoke Sock Designer, Darnington Argyle,

Legume Counter, Philip Beansworth, Document Wrangler, Excella Skunk, and Principal Petri Dish glanced at the line of speakers. It seems our final speaker has not yet... Just then, the doors to the courtyard burst open and a tallish hedgehog strode in, wearing bright red knee socks and carrying a cricket.

On his shoulder, Little Hedgehog and BB exchanged an extremely significant look. And Principal Petri Dish went on, Personal kettlebell trainer, Cecil Hedgehog, accompanied by his cricket, Jemaine, number 13. You were right, BB, it was number 13. It was a lucky guess, although I do wonder what happened to number 12.

"'What does she mean, number 13, Cecil?' "'Never you mind, Germaine. Never you mind.' The career night speeches were captivating. Melody Turnstile gripped the audience of students by tuning the piano. Ms. Swindletooth helpfully wheeled into the courtyard.

Prescott Knightley Top gave the long and meandering story of how he became a premier chess piece whittler. It all began at the Junior Beavers Chess Tournament in Wimselby Forest 27 years ago.

Darnington Argyle, the bespoke sock designer, took the measurements of a young lizard and swiftly knitted him a pair of socks as he inspired the youths. Ill-fitting socks cause immeasurable troubles. The world needs more sock designers so that there may be more properly fitted socks. If I can inspire just one of you to follow in my footsteps...

Or should I say sock steps? Well then I've done my job.

And Excellus Skunk, document wrangler, relaxed everyone with a calming speech about the beauty of spreadsheets. That was Bebe's favorite presentation. But there were two standouts, beloved by all. One was the professional legume counter, who gave a rousing presentation detailing which legumes he'd recently counted. Last week...

I counted 437 lentils of several varieties. Red lentils, yellow lentils, as well as a scattering of green lentils. Wow! That is so many lentils. I counted 783 fava beans.

Thirty-five navy beans. One thousand and three garbanzo beans. Also called chickpeas in common parlance. Um, excuse me, Mr. Beansworth? Yes? Did you count any peanuts? What a delightful question. Indeed, I counted two hundred thirty-seven peanuts.

As this highly advanced young porcupine here implied just now, Peanuts...

are, in fact, legumes. The other standout was Cecil Hedgehog, who performed a kettlebell exercise routine. And one, and two, and lift, and lift, and one, and two, and-- Wow, that looks heavy. My Aunt Jeanette is super into kettlebells. Meantime, his cricket, Jemaine number 13,

perched on the microphone and spoke to the crowd. As you can see, Cecil is the ideal personal trainer for all your kettlebell needs. As for me, I run my own small business. I offer personalized book recommendations as I am interested in all genres of books and I have encyclopedic knowledge on them.

For example, if you're in the mood for a mystery novel, for a small feature... Little Hedgehog and Bebe watched their neighbor and his tiny cricket friend and had their hearts warmed by the fact that they'd helped make Career Night a success. It was a truly wonderful and inspiring night.

I hope you loved the story, and I hope you have fun dreaming up what might be in your own future. Little Stories for Tiny People is written, performed, and produced by me, Rhea Pector. My in-house tech director, Peter Kay, runs my website and puts my stories in the internet for all of you to enjoy.

Thank you to my Little Stories Premium subscribers for supporting my work. 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, join or gift a subscription by visiting littlestoriespremium.com.

Thank you to Grayson for the super important reminder message at the beginning. And thank you to the many premium subscribers who supplied sound effects used in this story. Thank you to Livia, Frida, June, Ari, Eli, Luna, Fiona, Ivy, Ted, Posey, Audrey, Lennon,

And thank you, as always, for listening in.