Stories for Kids: A Story for Kids That's Set in Winter Time, "There's No Best Time of Year"

This story for kids will have your children laughing up a storm and asking for it frequently as a bedtime story. It features Kyle; his dog, Weener; and his smarty-pants neighbor, Celia. They're a set of fun characters who also star in another story for kids titled, Kyle and Weener Discover Groundhog Day.

There's No Best Time of Year (A Bedtime Story)

"Spring is the best time of year," I said, glaring at Celia, my red-haired, smarty-pants, next-door neighbor.

Celia twirled her pigtails between her fingers. "Kyle, there is no such thing as one best time of year," she said in a snooty voice.

My dog, Weener, stuffed his pointy nose up her pant leg and licked her ankle. "Traitor," I mumbled. He was supposed to be on my side, not slurping her leg in hopes of getting a piece of the donut that she nibbled.

"Baseball starts in the spring," I insisted.

Celia cocked her head. "The leaves turn lovely colors in fall, and winter is when the snow flies. Every season has its own beauty." She brushed crumbs off her orange jacket and they fell onto the snowy ground, where Weener gobbled them up.

"Beauty, shmuuty. I'm talking sports."

"I don't care about sports." Celia flipped her pigtails faster. Maybe if she wound them tight enough they'd act like propellers and fly her out of my life.

She said, "I'm right because I watch the Discovery channel, and I know everything. So there!" And she stuck her tongue out at me. I swear it had freckles that matched her face. Or maybe I was just seeing spots because I was so mad.

"Sports count for a lot," I sputtered. "You don't know anything because you're just a ... a ... girl!"

"I'm so glad you noticed," Celia said. She turned and walked away, swinging her hips like some kind of strange, red-headed elephant.

As her shoes crunched the snow, it gave me an idea. I reached down, packed a snowball, and in one smooth move, threw it. It was the best pitch of my life. If there'd been a crowd, they would've cheered. The snowball hit the back of her head with a "Thwack!"

For a red-headed elephant Celia could move awfully fast. She tore after me, chasing me down the street, while Weener ran along side, yapping and barking. Then the traitor-dog did the worst thing of all-he ran between my legs and tripped me, face first into a snow bank.

Celia jumped toward me, but I rolled to the side. She landed with an "Oomph." If you've ever seen a pigtailed elephant stuck in the snow, you'd know how funny it looked.

I started laughing and Weener bounced in to lick her face. Celia giggled, rolled onto her back, and swept her legs and arms up and down. "Look," she said, as she got up. "A snow angel."

I flopped down and made a snow angel of my own. But I drew horns on its head, so it was a snow devil.

All that rolling in the snow made me feel toasty inside and I decided Celia might be right. Every season did have its good part. But I wasn't going to tell her that. And if you ever see a smarty-pants with freckles on her tongue who walks like a red-headed elephant, be sure you don't tell her, either.