Ned Is Morphing Into A Snack! Jolly Phonics · Step 3, Unit 1: ph as in phone

Ned has a new house. It has a roof, a door, and a name slab out front that says Ned's House. Walls! A floor! It is phenomenal! But Ned has one big problem. He is hungry. So, so hungry.

'I eat the same snack, day in, day out,' Ned tells The Book. 'Snack at morn, snack at noon, snack at night. I am morphing into a snack!' The Book hops up, tapping its quill like a little philosopher. 'I can teach you to grow food. But you must do just as I say.'

'Phase one,' says The Book. 'Pull up the long grass and get the seeds.' Ned rips up clump by clump. Bits fly all round. Then Ned spots tiny hard green things in the dirt. 'What are these?' he asks.

'Seeds!' says The Book, sounding so proud. 'Grain seeds. Grain can morph into food.' 'Grand,' says Ned, holding up a bunch. 'I have some. Is that a lot?' 'Some?' The Book hums a little. 'Oh, Ned. No. Keep going.' So Ned pulls up extra grass. And extra. And extra. His hands go green and his legs go brown, and The Book just stands there, gazing, not pulling up one thin blade.

The Book sends Ned inside to the shop. 'You need a tool. Long haft, bent blade. Simple!' 'Simple for who?' mutters Ned. He gets some stone and makes the tool. Then he lifts it, and his arm dips. 'Oomph! This tool has such heft!' 'You will be fine,' says The Book, who lugs nothing, ever.

Outside, Ned drags the tool in the dirt. It jams on roots. It hits rocks. His arms burn. But long smooth lines form in the soil, neat as a graph. 'Phenomenal job!' calls The Book from the side, doing nothing at all. 'Thanks a lot,' puffs Ned.

Ned frowns at the soil. It is pale and dusty. He pokes it and it is dry as a bone. 'Nothing will grow in this,' he says. 'True!' says The Book. 'Next phase! Seeds need damp soil. You must add water.' Ned gazes at the sea, far, far off. 'And how do I do that?'

'Simple!' says The Book. Ned is starting to hate that word. Back in the shop, The Book flips a sheet and shows a bucket. 'Make this. It can hold water.' Ned grabs some bars and bangs them flat with real oomph. Clang, clang! Soon he holds up a bucket. 'Phenomenal,' says The Book. 'Now fill it up.' 'Let me guess,' says Ned. 'Simple?'

Ned dips the bucket into the sea. It goes in light. It comes out like it is full up with rocks. 'Oomph!' He tilts and just about tips into the sea. 'Water has heft,' says The Book. 'But we do not have far to go.' 'We?' yells Ned. 'You lug nothing!' Grunting and groaning, Ned lugs the bucket uphill to the plot.

Ned drops down and digs a hole in his plot. 'Tip the water in,' says The Book. 'The soil will soak it up.' 'It had best soak it up,' says Ned, 'as I will not lug one extra drop.' He tips the water in. Slowly, the pale dirt turns dark and damp, patch by patch. 'Phew! It works!' Ned grins. His arms still hurt. But it works.

Ned plants his seeds one by one, pressing each into the damp soil with his finger. Then he stands up and looks. Little green buds poke up in thin rows. 'Is that all?' Ned asks. 'They are so little. When do I get food?' 'There is one last phase,' says The Book.

'What? Make a thing? Lug a thing? Dig?' 'No,' says The Book. 'Wait.' Ned blinks. 'Wait?' 'Wait. Let the sun and the water do the job. When the grain is up to your hip, you can harvest it.' So Ned stands in his plot and waits. And then he has an epiphany. After all that pulling and lugging, the hardest job is doing nothing at all. Just like The Book.