a childrens book by Joan Easley & Mike Janowiak

PLANET LITTLE

Joan Easley 23015-1 Del Valle St. Woodland Hills, CA 91364 joaneasley@yahoo.com
On Planet Little where Wobbie lives, nobody ever gets big, and there are no Moms and Dads.

Wobbie has his 8-armed Wobot, who combs his messy hair, brushes his pearly teeth, buttons his yellow shirt, blows his drippy nose, knots his purple necktie, slips on his sports coat, ties up his sneakers, and changes his stinky diaper all at the same time. And he has his helper monkey Mitzi, who gives him a half-eaten banana to eat on his way to work. Yet Wobbie still feels somethings missing -- and not just the other half of the banana. On Planet Little where Wobbie lives, everything is little. The trees are little. The mountains are little. Even the gravity is little. The whole planet is like one big bouncy castle. Even big, big things are little on Wobbie world. The dinosaurs are the perfect size for riding. So Wobbie and Mitzi bounce out to the street and hail a sagging, sad-eyed, tiny taxi triceratops. Where to, bub? the dinosaur asks. Wobot Works, Wobbie replies. They bounce onto the back of the dinosaur and head down the road with all the other diapered passengers and their helper monkeys going to work on their tiny taxi triceratopses. Waa! Waa! wails a siren. Its the siren of the wailing fire babies.

All the taxi dinosaurs pull over and let the wailing fire baby brigade pedal past in their diapers and shiny red fire hats. The fire babies wail, wail, wail and clang, clang, clang the bell on their shiny red pedal truck. As the fire babies pedal away, Wobbie watches little construction workers in little hard hats shoot rivets into a ten-foot-tall skyscraper. Uh-oh! Their heavy tool belts drag down their diapers. The helper monkeys point and giggle. Further down the road, Wobbie and his dinosaur taxi come upon the house thats on fire. The whole fire brigade runs at it with a giant baby bottle. The littlest fire fighter jumps up and grabs the nipple, and WOOSH! squirts a stream of water that no fire could withstand. Wobbie salutes, and the little fire fighters tip their shiny red hats. Wobot Works, announces the dinosaur taxi a few minutes later. Wobbie rushes off. Hey, bub, my fare! Whoops, says Wobbie and feeds him five carrots. When Wobbie turns to leave, the triceratops gives him a funny look. Mitzi the helper monkey chatters and points. Oh! says Wobbie, handing the dinosaur a sixth carrot. Heres your tip. Inside Wobot Works, Wobbie sees a long line of broken wobots and their diapered owners. One wobot barks, and one wobot tweets. One moves too fast, and one moves too slow. One cant stop singing, and one cant stop dancing. Wobbie promise hell make them all just right. We both will! smiles a girl in a ruby red diaper and matching fuzzy sweate, Wobbies pal Wuby Dee. I hope you can fix my wobot, says a muffled customer with a naked bottom and a diaper on his head.

Cause Im getting chills and diaper rash in all the wrong places. No problem, says Wobbie. A quick polarity adjustment should do it. And with a few tweaks, whirrs and beeps, Wobbie and Wuby Dee fix the broken wobot. There you go, says Wuby. Now the wobot knows which end is up. And I can finally wee-wee, says the no- longer-muffled customer. Ive been holding it in for days. Wobbie gets a faraway look in his eye. Someday, says Wobbie, Ill invent a flushing wee-wee pot so big little people like us wont have to wear diapers anymore. No! says the no-longer -muffled customer, Wobots live to change our diapers. But maybe someday Wuby responds. Our Wobbie is a dreamer. After all the broken wobots are fixed, Wuby Dee turns to Wobbie. That was a good days work, she smiles. You have a nice night and sweet dreams. You too, Wuby, says Wobbie. That night, Mitzi the helper monkey gives Wobbie a half- slurped bedtime banana smoothie. Wobot combs his messy hair, brushes his pearly teeth, slips off his sports coat, unknots his purple necktie, unbuttons his yellow shirt, unties his sneakers, blows his drippy nose, and changes his stinky diaper all at the same time. As Wobbie curls up under the covers, Mitzi the helper monkey grooms her hairy toes and hums a little tune. In Wobbies dream, he hears the same tune being hummed by a beautiful lady with a beautiful voice. She kisses him on the cheek and says, Sweet dreams, my son.

And a big, tall man with kindly eyes gives him a night-night tummy wub. Wobbie keeps on dreaming and keeps on smiling. And the next morning, after Wobot combs Wobbies messy hair, brushes his pearly teeth, buttons his yellow shirt, blows his drippy nose, knots his purple necktie, slips on his sports coat, ties up his sneakers, and changes his stinky diaper all at the same time and Mitzi the helper monkey gives him a two- thirds eaten banana, Wobbie puts out his cheek, waiting for a good morning kiss. But it never comes. And Wobbie feels sad. Wobbie hails the sagging, sad- eyed, tiny taxi triceratops. Today hes saggier than ever. Wobbie asks. Would you want a wub? Oy! Would I ever. Wobbie rubs the little dinosaurs belly, making his legs wiggle and his mouth giggle. Thanks, bub. I needed that. When Wobbie arrives at Wobot Works, he runs in bubbling with excitement. Everybody needs belly wubs, he announces. Belly wubs and kisses. The whole line of wobots and toddlers and helper monkeys stare at him with their heads cocked. Once, he explains, there were tall people called Moms and Dads who loved us and took care of us and gave us kisses and tummy wubs. Nonsense! Wobots take care of us, yells one toddler. And helper monkeys, shouts another. And everybody knows people only get so big.

Most take their wobots and go home. Well, says Wuby, I hope you keep on dreaming. And that very night, Wobbie dreams of long ago, when Moms and Dads put babies on a rocket to protect them from an asteroid. Wobbie remembers he was one of those babes. He remembers peering out the porthole and seeing a meteor BOING off the rocket and KER-PLING off the asteroid. That KER-PLING saved Planet Earth. That BOING sent us off course. We went BOOM on Planet Little. Our parents dont know where we are. We must find the rocket and fly it home. Thats cuckoo, they say, Planet Little is our home. The toddlers and monkeys point and laugh and leave. A sad Wobbie says to Wuby, Im sorry I ruined our Wobot Works. Dont worry. Ill help you find the rocket. The next morning, Wobbie, Wuby Dee, Mitzi and Wobot hail the tiny taxi triceratops to begin their fantastic journey. Thats going to cost you, bub, says the triceratops. No one dares go where the spiky trees grow. Spiky Trees? beeps Wobot. Oh, no! Oh no! That is the valley of Glub Glub. Danger, Wobbie! Danger! Mitzis eyes go wide. She jumps up and down and screams. Everyone knows, the only thing that isnt little on Planet Little is Glub Glub. Hes huge and mean and scary, and he gobbles all he sees.

I know its scary, Wobbie says, but thats where my dream said the rocket is. Wuby says, Im not afraid. Mitzi raises an eyebrow. She chatters a chatter that says, Well. La-dee-dah! Wobbie tempts the triceratops with a big bag of carrots. And off they go. They go past the Plain of Tweeting Budgies and over the Mountain of Slip-Sliding Goats. And then, the dinosaur spies the spiky trees and stops short so fast that they all bump into each other, and Mitzi the helper monkey is not at all pleased. Suddenly, Glub Glub rises up in front of them, all big and scary, growling and gurgling. Mitzi hides behind Wobot, and Wobot plays dead. But brave Wobbie breaks a spike off a spiky tree. Tree roots rumble. Someone or something shrieks. With spike in hand, Wobbie bounces towards Glub Glub. He bounces higher and higher till hes high as Glub Glubs nose. But when he looks into Glub Glubs eyes, Wobbie drops the spike and rubs Glub Glubs tummy instead. Aaahhhhh sighs Glub Glub . Wobbie and pals search the valley for the rocket, while Mitzi keeps Glub Glub from growling and gurgling with Glub Glub tummy wubs. After hours of searching, theres still no rocket. Wobbie says, Im sorry, I was sure it was here, but Then Glub Glub belches a big, smelly belch, and out from his mouth pops a silvery point. Whoa! Wobbie exclaims. Its the rocket! They all push and push till the rocket slides out.

And when its all out, Glub Glubs as small and wrinkly as a wrinkled slinky. So it turns out everything on Planet Little really is little except the rocket. Now Glub Glub smiles, smiles and smiles cause his tummy aches gone, along with the gurgles and growls and grumpy moods. Youd be moody, too, had that been stuck in you. As the group de-Glub-Glub-goos the rocket, Wobbie struggles to get the spaceship started. When out of the porthole, he spies something creepy. Those spiky trees are tip-toeing toward his friends, creep, creep, creeping on their gnarly roots. Wobbie runs out of the rocket and gets everyone in, just in time, before the trees can make shish-kabob out of them. Wobbie tries again, but the engines still wont start. The trees keep pushing in. The metal of the rocket groans under their pressure. And suddenly, Wobbie gets an idea. He hooks up jumper cables to Wobot and connects them to the control panel. The panel whirrs to life, and Wobbie gets the rocket roaring. But the trees wont let go. Wobbie pushes the rocket to full power. They break free of the trees and into the sky. As they travel through space, Wobbie looks out the porthole, searching. And back on Earth, a beautiful lady with a beautiful voice turns to a big, tall man with kindly eyes and says, Honey, I just had the most wonderful dream. Our son is on his way home.