Silly Panda Picnic

In Bamboo Bend, three pandas packed a picnic.

Poppy had one ear that always stood up like a tiny flag. Bao had the roundest belly and the loudest laugh. Dot was the smallest, with a little black spot on her nose.

“I made Bamboo Bubbles!” Poppy said, holding a jug that fizzed and fizzled. “It tickles your tongue.”

“I packed crunchy shoots,” Bao said. “And extra crunchy shoots.” His belly went boing when he walked.

“I brought bamboo cookies,” said Dot. “They look like clouds.” She held up a lumpy cookie. It did look a bit like a cloud. Or a potato. Or a potato cloud.

They followed a giant leaf-map Poppy had drawn. The map had a big X for the perfect picnic place.

They walked past a rock. “Hello, Mr. Rock!” said Dot.

They walked a little more and passed the same rock. “Hello again, Mr. Rock,” said Bao.

They walked even more and passed the same rock again. Poppy blinked. “This rock is very friendly.”

Dot tilted the map. “Poppy, your map is upside down.”

“It was making the X extra mysterious,” Poppy said. She flipped it around, and the arrow pointed the other way. Off they went.

At the grassy clearing, Poppy spread the blanket. The blanket wiggled.

“Excuse me,” said a voice under the blanket. “You are very polite, but you are sitting on me.”

The blanket wasn’t a blanket. It was Tumble the turtle.

“Oh, Tumble!” cried Dot. “We thought you were plaid.”

“I am not plaid,” said Tumble, smiling. “I am Tumble. Would you like to share the shade?”

They all scooted and found a real blanket. Poppy poured the Bamboo Bubbles. The bubbles went fizz, whizz, pop!

Bao took a sip and got the hiccups. “HIC!” His hiccup bounced a cookie off his nose. The cookie flew up, up, up—and landed on a lily pad with a soft ploof.

“Cookie rescue!” shouted Dot. She leaped, grabbed a tall bamboo stalk, and swung. The stalk bent like a spring and gently boinged her back to shore, cookie safe in her paw.

“Thank you, Dot the Brave,” said Bao. “HIC!” His belly jiggled like a jelly drum.

A gust of wind puffed into the clearing. WHOOSH! Poppy’s fish windsock floated up and sailed away like a goofy flying fish.

“After it!” Poppy cried.

They ran, then they rolled. Pandas are very good at rolling. They rolled down a soft hill—flump, flump, flump—right into a puddle covered in pink petals.

They popped up polka-dotted. Even Bao’s belly had spots.

“We are peppermint pandas,” said Dot. She wiggled her nose. Her nose-spot had a spot.

“Honk!” said a goose walking by. The goose looked puzzled, then honked again.

Bao honked back. “HOOONK!” It sounded like a trumpet stuck in a cookie jar.

The goose honked, Bao honked, Poppy and Dot honked, and even Tumble tried a tiny turtle honk. Everyone giggled until Bao hiccuped again. “HIC!” His hiccup made a bubble pop on his own head.

They rolled back to their picnic and laid out the snacks. Ants marched in a line near the blanket, carrying a crumb like it was a treasure chest.

“Hello, tiny picnickers,” said Dot. She placed a cookie crumb at the end of their line. The ants wiggled with joy.

Poppy held up her jug. “Bamboo Bubbles, anyone?”

Bao nodded, then froze. “Uh-oh.” His hiccup was brewing. “H—”

“Quick! Try a slow sip,” said Poppy.

Bao took a slow sip. “—ic.” The hiccup came out as a whisper. The bubbles in the jug went glug, gluggle, gluggle—then the jug burbled and a foamy bubble mountain spilled over the cup and onto the grass.

Bubble mountain slid toward the pond, giggling and wiggling like it had feet. “Stop!” Poppy called. The bubbles did not stop.

Plop. Into the water went the bubbles. The pond turned into a fizzy bath of pop-pop-pops.

Dot dipped a paw. “It tickles!” she squealed.

Tumble blew a slow turtle breath across the pond, making bubble hats and bubble beards. The goose got a bubble crown. Bao got a bubble mustache and tried to look serious. He did not look serious.

“What do pandas eat for dessert?” Dot asked between laughs. “Bam-boo cake!”

Poppy groaned and giggled. “That joke is very chewrific.”

They ate crunchy shoots and cloud-pota-to cookies and sat in the tickly sun. The wind finally brought the fish windsock back and dropped it right onto Bao’s belly.

“It fits!” said Poppy.

Bao took a deep breath and laughed. The fish windsock flapped like a happy fin. Flap-flap-flap.

“Best picnic ever,” said Dot.

Tumble nodded. “And no one sat on me this time.”

Bao patted his belly. “I’m full of crunch and bubbles,” he said, and for the first time all day, he didn’t hiccup.

“Hooray!” cheered Poppy.

“Hoor—HIC!” said Bao.

Everyone fell over giggling.

They packed up, waved to the ants, the goose, and Tumble, and rolled home slowly, three peppermint pandas with happy tummies, a flappy fish, and a very friendly map, finally pointed the right way.