A Spot for Sloth Jolly Phonics · Step 3, Unit 8: /ue/ mixed

Sloth is so sleepy. Not just a little sleepy. His arms feel weak, his legs feel weak, and his lids will not stay up. 'I need a nap,' he sighs, with his mouth open wide. 'Not just any nap. The best nap yet. All I need is the right spot. A new spot. A true nap spot.'

Sloth spots a lofty tree with a lot to grip. 'It is true,' he says. 'This tree is the one.' He grips the trunk and starts to creep up. Slow. Very, very slow. That is how a sloth must go. But he has hope, and a big dream: the best nap ever.

Soon Sloth finds a branch with a fine bend in it. Like a little wood bed. He hangs down from it and hooks on with all four feet. 'This is it,' he sighs. 'This is the true spot. No bad thing will come.' He shuts his lids. He should not say that.

Ow! A big, wet mouth grabs Sloth's back. He looks up. Giraffe is chewing on him. 'Stop that,' Sloth yells. 'I am not food!' But the green moss on Sloth's fur does look a lot like leaves. Giraffe has one more chew, just to check. 'Not food,' Sloth yells, and he creeps up higher. So much for that spot.

Sloth finds a new branch, high up, far from Giraffe. He hugs the trunk and grins. A cool wind drifts by. Dew shines on the leaves. 'Now this is the spot,' he says. 'No Giraffe. No chewing. Just peace and quiet and the best nap yet. No bad thing will come.' He shuts his lids. He must stop saying that.

Buzz, buzz! A hive. A big, lumpy, humming hive hangs from the very same branch. One bee lands on Sloth's nose. Then one more on his cheek. Then a few more on his belly. 'I will just go,' Sloth says, and he lets go one foot at a time. 'It is a very fine hive. Do not sting me!'

Higher up, Sloth hugs the trunk and peers up. A long, thin thing hangs down from the next branch. Sloth looks hard. 'Is that a tail?' It is a tail. And a tail is a clue: some beast is up there. 'Who is there?' he calls. 'Who has that tail? A nice tail? A sleepy tail? A do-not-eat-me tail?'

Hiss! Snake pops up and puts his face right by Sloth's face. Fangs out. 'Mine!' Snake yells. 'This branch is mine! Go and seek a new spot!' 'All right, all right!' Sloth squeaks, and up he goes, fast. Fast for a sloth, that is.

Sloth can not keep his lids up. His feet hurt. He hurts from tip to tail. His nap is long past due. Up there, a bird sits on a branch. But the branch just below it is empty. Empty and fine. 'Let this be the spot,' Sloth says. 'I will not even say it. No bad thing will... no. I will not say it. I just want to sleep.'

Bird tips that little beak up at the sky and yells, on and on and on. Sloth hangs there with one lid shut. 'Bird,' he asks, 'is it like this all day?' Bird just continues. 'I will take that as a yes,' sighs Sloth.

One spot is left. The very tip top. Sloth creeps up with hope and with big dreams. He hugs the trunk with all four feet. He curls his tail. He tucks in, snug in the cool green leaves. No Giraffe. No bees. No Snake. No Bird. Just the wide blue sky, and quiet. Sloth shuts his lids. And now he keeps them shut.

And so the tree fills up for the night. Sloth snoozes at the very top. Bird sits in the middle, quiet at last. Snake coils below, at peace. And Giraffe stands at the bottom, looking up with a long face. 'Where can I nap?' asks Giraffe. Nobody answers. They are all asleep. Well. All but a few bees.