Once upon a sunny afternoon, in a cottage with candy-cane shutters, lived a little girl named Rosie. Rosie was known for her bright red hoodie and her even brighter spirit. But her most prized possession was her trusty Little Red Wagon.

“Rosie, my sweet berry,” her Mama said, “Be a dear and take this basket of Cloud-Cakes to your Granny. She’s feeling under the weather and needs some cheer.”

The basket was large and wobbly. “Don’t you worry, Mama!” Rosie chirped. “My wagon will carry it, no trouble at all!”

So, Rosie placed the basket in her wagon and set off down the winding, pixelated path through Toon-Tale Woods. The wagon’s wheels went clickity-clack over the stones, a happy little sound.

Now, Toon-Tale Woods were mostly friendly. Jittery bunnies bounced to the rhythm of the clicking wheels. A family of ducks waddled behind, thinking it was a parade. But someone else heard the happy clickity-clack.

Peeking from behind a giant, polka-dotted mushroom was a fellow named Woolbert. He wasn’t a big, bad wolf. He was just… a little bit sly, a little bit lonely, and very, very fond of Cloud-Cakes.

“Aha!” whispered Woolbert, rubbing his fuzzy paws. “Those are the fluffiest Cloud-Cakes I’ve ever seen! I must have them for my tea party… which currently has no guests… or tea… or cakes.”

Using a secret network of rabbit holes (he was a slim wolf), Woolbert zipped ahead. He popped up at Granny’s cottage, gave his fur a fluff, and knocked.

Tap-tap-tappity.

“Come in, my dear!” trilled Granny’s voice.

Woolbert tiptoed in. Granny, cozy in her bed, was playing a video game. Her glasses were glowing with the screen. “Just a minute, Rosie! I’m on the final boss!”

“Ahem!” Woolbert piped up in his best Rosie-impression. “Granny! I’ve brought something that might make you feel better sniff-sniff-sniff sooner!”

“Oh, how thoughtful!” said Granny, not looking away from her game. “Just leave them on the table, darling.”

But Woolbert didn’t want to just take them. Taking felt… unfriendly. He had a better, sillier idea. He spotted Granny’s fluffy slippers and her spare pair of spectacles. In a flash, he put them on, pulled the blanket up to his nose, and hopped into Granny’s bed, giggling to himself.

Soon, Rosie’s wagon went clickity-CLUNK as she pulled it up to the porch. She knocked.

“Come in, my sugarplum!”

Rosie pushed the door open. There was Granny, a lump under the quilts, glasses shining.

“Oh, Granny!” said Rosie. “What big… fluffy slippers you have!”

“All the better for warm tootsies!” squeaked the lump.

“And Granny, what big… round spectacles you have!”

“All the better for seeing my awesome high score!” the lump replied.

Rosie tilted her head. Then she smiled a wide, knowing smile. “And Granny… what a big, fuzzy SMILE you have!”

At that, Woolbert couldn’t help it. He let out a real, happy laugh and threw the blanket off. “You got me! The smile always gives it away!”

Just then, the real Granny finally paused her game. “Did I hear my Rosie? And… Woolbert? Is that you wearing my good slippers?”

For a moment, everyone was still. Then Rosie started giggling. Granny chuckled. Woolbert looked at his paws, ashamed.

“I was just… the Cloud-Cakes smelled so good… and my tea party is so lonely,” he mumbled.

Rosie looked at her wagon, then at the basket, then at Woolbert’s droopy ears. An idea popped into her head, bright as a lightbulb.

“Well!” she announced. “My wagon carried the cakes here just fine. And it’s a very strong wagon. I think it can carry one slightly sneaky wolf, one basket of Cloud-Cakes, and one gamer-granny to have a proper tea party in the garden!”

And that’s exactly what they did. The Little Red Wagon carried Granny (and her gaming console) outside. Woolbert helped set the table. Rosie poured the sun-tea. They shared the Cloud-Cakes, and Woolbert told terribly funny, not-at-all-scary stories that made them all laugh until their bellies ached.

From that day on, the clickity-clack of Rosie’s Little Red Wagon was often followed by the pitty-pat of a certain wolf’s paws, on his way to a friend’s house for a snack and a smile.

The Moral of the Toon Tale: The best way to carry a treat is in a wagon big enough to share it with new friends.