The Cosmic Tidy-Up

by

Thomas

Thomas

The Cosmic Tidy-Up

A story about Cleaning

for your 2nd Grader.

Luna - who is black - stands with her sparkly cloak flowing in the night breeze. In the background, twinkling stars

Luna Lighthug stood on the rooftop of her mysterious castle, smiling at the endless night sky. She wore a sparkly cloak that shimmered under the bright moon. She could not wait to have a fun, moonlit picnic.

Zibloo waves a cheerful greeting from his tiny spaceship. In the background, distant planets

Far away, Zibloo the alien zoomed closer in a tiny spaceship. He loved watching the stars dance around him, so he quickly landed on the castle roof. Zibloo hopped out, eager to meet his friend.

Luna - who is black - leans over the tall basket, lifting its lid. In the background, the moon softly glowing

Luna greeted Zibloo with a happy grin and pointed to a big picnic basket filled with tasty treats. “We will share yummy snacks,” she said. Zibloo laughed and wiggled his antenna in delight.

A scattered pile of old space crumbs and broken bits of toys. In the background, the rooftop’s stone floor

When they spread out the blanket, they noticed old space crumbs and broken bits of toys scattered all around. The mess felt annoying under their feet, making it hard to find a good spot. The clutter was getting in the way.

Zibloo carefully scoops up a few star shells from the floor. In the background, the castle’s tall spires

Zibloo tripped on a small pile of cracked star shells. He rubbed his knee and frowned. “Maybe we should tidy up,” he suggested, brushing crumbs off his shiny pants.

Luna - who is black - is holding a small broom, ready to sweep. In the background, a lonely gargoyle statue

Luna agreed and grabbed a small broom, determined to clean every corner of the rooftop. “If we sweep up as soon as we see a mess,” she said, “we never trip again!” She twirled the broom like a dancing wand.

A plastic bag rustling with wrappers and cups inside. In the background, a gentle moonbeam

They started by picking up wrappers, cracked cups, and broken hopes of old picnic nights. Each item dropped into a bag sounded like a tiny victory. Soon, the floor felt smoother and welcoming again.

Zibloo diligently polishes a small spot on the rooftop. In the background, drifting clouds

Zibloo worked hard, stacking everything neatly. He hummed a silly tune, glancing back at the shining stars for extra energy. “Scrub, pick, and toss,” he joked, waving a rag in the air.

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