Tidy Toes

Leo the Lion cub had the best toy collection in all of Golden Rock Den — a wooden zebra, a bouncy ball made of dried grass, three carved blocks, and a very special striped kite. The only trouble was, Leo left every single one of them exactly where he'd last played with them.

"Tidy up before bed, little cub," his mother reminded him every evening, and every evening Leo said, "In a minute!" — and then promptly forgot.

One night, the den grew dark much faster than Leo expected. He yawned, stretched, and padded across the floor toward his sleeping corner — right over the wooden zebra, which rolled beneath his paw and sent him tumbling into the carved blocks with a very undignified "OOF!"

His mother came rushing in. "Leo! Are you hurt?"

Leo rubbed his nose, more surprised than sore. "I didn't see it in the dark," he admitted.

"That's the trouble with toys left out," his mother said gently, helping him up. "The den looks the same to them whether it's day or night. But it doesn't look the same to *you*."

Leo looked around at the scattered zebra, the blocks, the ball peeking out from under his blanket. For the first time, he saw it not as "his things where he left them," but as a little maze of things waiting to trip him up.

"Will you help me?" he asked. Together, paw over paw, they placed the zebra on its shelf, stacked the blocks in the corner, and tucked the ball and kite into their basket.

The den looked different somehow — bigger, calmer, like it could breathe again.

Leo climbed into his soft nest of grass without a single stumble. "It's easier to fall asleep when the floor isn't full of surprises," he murmured, already half-dreaming.

His mother smiled and turned down the last of the light. "That's exactly why we tidy, little one. Not just for the den — for the you that walks through it tonight."