Two Bedrooms for Teddy

Teddy's Important Question

On Friday, Sam packed pyjamas, a toothbrush and Teddy. Teddy had lived on the same pillow for as long as Sam could remember, but now Sam slept some nights at Mum's flat and some at Dad's house.

“Which one is home?” Sam asked Teddy in the car. Teddy, being stuffed with wool, said nothing.

At Dad's house, the new room smelled of paint. The moon sticker above the bed leaned sideways. Sam's stomach leaned sideways too.

The Things That Travel

Dad found a box and wrote SAM'S IMPORTANT THINGS on it. Inside went the bedtime book, the blue cup and the little torch. “These can travel with you,” he said.

At Mum's flat, Sam made another box. It held a spare blue cup, the same kind of toothpaste and a paper moon drawn exactly as crooked as the sticker.

“Teddy cannot be in two places,” Sam said.

So they took a photograph of Teddy for each bedside table. Teddy still travelled with Sam, but the pictures waited when he was away.

Two Goodnights

The rules were not all the same. Dad sang too quickly. Mum always forgot the second glass of water. Sam taught each of them the proper goodnight words.

One Sunday, Sam realised there were now two places where someone knew the song, two pillows shaped by Sam's head and two windows where Teddy had watched the moon.

“Which one is home?” Sam asked again.

This time Teddy still said nothing, but Sam knew the answer. Home was not a contest. Home was every place where the goodnight words knew how to find you.