Mooseltoe by Margie Palatini Read Aloud by Books Read Aloud For Children


Mooseltoe written by Margie Palatini. Illustrated by Henry Cole. ‘Twas the season, and Moose was merry. He joyfully tickled the ivories with a tuneful
of tidings and a flurry of fa la la’s. He was so full of ho ho ho’s, even his moosetache had the holiday spirit. But Moose was more than just a bit merry and
bright. He was busy, busy, busy. There was a lot to be done on his list of
to-do’s. But – with orderly organization, a bit of
regimentation, lots of imagination, and just plain old Moose know-how – getting ready for
the big day should have been simple. Easy. Yes, in all probability, just… perfectly
perfect. He wasted not one merry minute. Moose got movin’ and put some hustle into
the holiday bustle. He went to work. He wrote cards and letters till his hooves hurt. Check. He shopped till he dropped. Check. He hauled home boxes and bags and presents
galore. Moose had gifts for everyone stacked from
ceiling to floor. Check. Check. Check. Then he wrapped. Yo. Yo. Yo. And he ribboned. Ho. Ho. Ho. And on each and every package he tied a big
beautiful bow. Check and double check. So far… so simple. So easy. So… perfectly perfect. Another look at the list, and Moose headed
for the kitchen. He pulled out the pots, pans, and bowls. Sifted through stacks and racks of cookbooks. He whisked with his left. Spooned with his right. Moose baked tons of tins of cookies. Check. Dozens of cakes, breads and sweets. Check. Check. Check. He made jellies. Sticky jams. Moose roasted a goose and some chestnuts. He toasted marshmallows and yams. Check. Check. Check. Triple check. Yes. Yes. So simple. So easy. And, but of course, so perfectly perfect. Decorations were up next on his list of things
to do and get done. So Moose decked the halls. Then spruced up the walls. He beaded, bowed, and mooseltowed. He gathered garlands. Roped wreaths and holly. Jingled bells. Sang Noels – oh, good golly, this moose was jolly. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check… Check. Last, but not least, he hung all the stockings, each and every one, with special care. And just in time, too. Soon Santa would be there. Check and final check. Yessiree. Getting ready for Christmas was an absolute
snap. And so simple. So easy. And if he did say so himself. Moose thought, totally, utterly, completely…
perfectly perfect. On that night before Christmas, Mother, Little Sissy, Bucky, and Junior looked all through the house What a job Moose had done! Everything looked bountiful. Festive. Quite fine. Indeed. There was just one minor problem. If you will. “Oh, dear,” sighed the Mrs. as the five stared at one empty corner. “Oh, my. Oh, me. Oh, gee.” “Pop! What happened?” cried Junior. “You forgot the tree!” Ooops! Where would they hand the tinsel? String the popcorn? Light the lights? Where would Santa leave his gifts for the
kiddies on Christmas Eve night? So Moose pulled on his galoshes and put on his hat. He would find a tree somewhere – somehow. And that’s all there was to that. So, out went the moose, braving blustery blowing winds and the cold. Trudging through snowdrifts, courageous and bold. Moose first hoofed it down to the corner. Not a tree to be had. Then he slid around the block. Uh-oh. Things were looking bad. He went down every boulevard, street, and
little road. He looked down lanes and alleys… Every tree had been sold. There wasn’t a branch, not a twig, not even
one lousy bowless bough hanging around. Nope. Nada. Nothing. Not a tree to be found. “No tree,” sighed a sad Moose as he came home
empty-handed that snowy eve. The kids tried to make the best of it. They said, “Oh, so who needs a tree?” But Moose could plainly see they were short
on the glee. He knew he had to do something. And that’s just what he did. In the empty corner he stood and spread his
arms out very wide. Then he smiled at his children. And he winked at his bride. “Kids,” he declared. “Fetch your forgetful pop some of that tried-and-true
family glop.” So back came the kids carrying a big pot of
glue. And without a word to one another, they knew
just what to do. They each took a part. Grabbing strands. Taking hold. Then carefully… oh, so carefully… they
glopped. And they plopped. They pasted. And they pressed. They curled and twirled every which way a
follicle could fathom, until Moose’s magnificent moosetache… was indeed even more of a marvel
to see. Moose was just a few needles shy of being
an evergreen tree! They strung Moose with light from his head
to his toes. And draped him with tinsel, beginning right
with his nose. They hung balls that were shiny. And bells that twinkled. Candy canes, berries, and plums sugar-sprinkled. Then – they all stood back – Junior plugged
in his pop. “Ooooooooh. Aaaaaah.” Yes, Moose truly was one incredible sight. He was glorious and glowing. And boy, oh boy, was he ever bright! Then Junior placed the star on top of Moose’s
head. He gave him a kiss. And a pat. And they all headed off to bed. Except Moose, of course. He stayed in the corner instead. Still twinkling. And blinking. And waiting for Santa. Oh… so it wasn’t so simple. And it wasn’t so easy. And okay, okay, it wasn’t so perfectly perfect. But do you know what?… It was pretty close. Ho! Ho! Ho!

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