Visit the “A Bedtime Story” show website to submit your story ideas for a future episode! Deep beneath the roots of the oldest oak in the Enchanted Glade lived Bartholomew, a gnome whose frown was so legendary it had its own tiny thundercloud hovering over it. Bartholomew was grumpy. He was grumpy about slugs, grumpy about sunshine, and especially grumpy about laughter. "Too much noise!" he'd grumble, stuffing his mushroom cap deeper over his ears.Now, in the Enchanted Glade, laughter was like magic. It made the flowers bloom brighter, the rivers sparkle, and the fireflies glow. So, when a mysterious silence fell over the glade, and all the usual giggles and chuckles disappeared, everyone knew it was a serious problem. The flowers began to droop, the river looked murky, and the fireflies barely flickered.A worried little pixie named Pip flew to Bartholomew’s door. "Bartholomew! All the laughter is gone! The glade is fading!"Bartholomew sniffed. "Good riddance! Now I can finally nap in peace." But even Bartholomew, deep down, felt a strange chill. The silence was… too quiet. It made his beard itch.He emerged from his home, muttering complaints. He saw the usually cheerful squirrels looking glum, their acorns tasting flat. The wise old owl, known for his hoots of amusement, simply sat, silent and still."Right," Bartholomew huffed, "this silence is worse than the noise. I'll find your laughter, but only because it's disrupting my peace."He stomped through the glade, his tiny thundercloud following him like a faithful, albeit gloomy, pet. He found the source of the problem by the Whispering Waterfall. There, a mischievous sprite named Sparkle had collected all the laughter in a shimmering, invisible jar. "I thought it would make a lovely perfume!" she giggled, holding the empty jar to her nose. "But it just faded away!""You silly sprite!" Bartholomew roared, startling Sparkle so much she dropped the now truly empty jar. "Laughter isn't a perfume! It's meant to be shared!"Sparkle, startled, started to cry. Her tears, however, weren't sad tears; they were sparkly, giggling tears that bounced when they hit the ground.Bartholomew, for the first time in ages, felt a strange sensation. A little twitch at the corner of his mouth. He looked at Sparkle, whose tears were now making tiny, joyful popping sounds. He looked at the empty jar. He looked at the drooping flowers. And then, he looked at his own reflection in a nearby puddle, which, for once, didn't look quite so grumpy.He tried to be serious. "Well, that's just a waste of good… giggles." But as he said it, a tiny, unexpected chuckle escaped his own lips. It was a rusty sound, like an old gate opening, but it was laughter.The moment that chuckle escaped, a single flower near Bartholomew instantly perked up and bloomed a vibrant red. A lone firefly above them blinked twice, then glowed brightly.Sparkle looked up, her eyes wide. "Bartholomew! You laughed!"Bartholomew tried to scowl again, but another chuckle bubbled up, followed by a wheezy giggle. The more he tried to stop, the more he laughed, a strange, rumbling, gnome-like cackle.As Bartholomew laughed, the glade began to awaken. More flowers bloomed. The river started to gurgle playfully. The fireflies lit up like a thousand tiny stars. The lost laughter hadn't been collected; it had simply gone into hiding, waiting for someone, even a grumpy gnome, to start it again. Bartholomew, much to his own chagrin, realized that sometimes, a little laughter, even grumpy laughter, could do a world of good. He didn't stop being grumpy, but his thundercloud now had a permanent, tiny, rainbow fringe.

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