Bedtime Stories: Peter Has A Visitor

October 3, 2026 Bedtime Stories

Peter Has A Visitor

By Jessica Villasenor

---

Peter is a particular kind of bird. He expected order. He expected his family to follow a strict schedule. The children’s should be out of bed by 6:15 am.

He monitored the morning routine. “Brushing your teeth before school is very important” he would hear mom say.

He was a prompt kind of bird. He made sure his kids were out the door by 7:15 am. No later.

Phew! Said Peter after the kids went to school. He would fly to his perch soaking in the quiet. He grinded his beak softly as he relaxed and ate his breakfast.

The night time routine was simple. He would leave this up to the professionals. The kids would burst through the door. Each word spilling out faster than the next. Peter greeted the kids with joyful chirps.

After the children ate and showered the tv would play their favorite shows or favorite sing along. Peter waited patiently as the day started to wind down.

After all he was a particular type of bird that liked things quiet at night and his favorite sheet over him.  

---

His room took most of the upstairs of his family’s home.

His children called it the game room. Mom called it his and he took that seriously.

One day, Peter woke up to Dad rearranging his room.

“I did not authorize this.” Peter protested as he sat on top of the bookcase.

He looked down on all the commotion. Tables moved like boulders and Grandma’s old couch had suddenly moved to the other side of the room.

“How dare you!” Peter chirped from his post.

“Put my bed down!” Peter shouted as loud as his little lungs would allow.

He began flying around. Swooping up and down. Each chirp rose higher..

Dad looked around as mom tried to sooth Peter.

“It’s ok sweetie.” She cooed.

But Peter was not having it.

He landed on the floor huffing and puffing.

“Awe, poor baby.” She sang wrapping him in a soft towel.

He pecked lightly to pretend he hated the warm towel.

“Oh, I know. It is terrible.” Mom teased.

Peter closed his eyes as his little body trembled softly.

The next day Peter woke up in his bed but instead of his pedastol a huge, tall table held it up.

Peter stretched his wings. Blinked his eyes and tried to listen for his children.

Where could they be?

He looked around. Had he overslept?

Impossible! He thought.

Just then, Peter’s crest feathers stood straight up.

A strange rumble came from the staircase.

Had they bought a herd of elephants?

“Woof, woof” a creature roared.

The sound of little feet trailing it.

Peter started  to shake.

“What is that?” Peter hissed. He flew out as an enormous roar vibrated the walls.

“Woof, Woof”

“Heeeeeeeeelp” Peter screamed as he rose in the air above the beast.

The children’s voices raise. “No, OSCAR!”

Peter dropped to the floor. Gasping and shaking, he waddled faster than his little legs had ever gone.

It was no use he was cornered.

Peter shut his eyes.

He felt a cold wet nose brushed against his feathers.

His entire body shuttered. Feathers ruffled. He slowly opened his tiny eyes and hissed.

Peter was a particular type of bird that did NOT like cold wet things touching his feathers.

Just as quickly as it had appeared it was gone.

Peter krept slowly out of the corner.

Dad had captured the beast.

Mom came rushing to Peter’s side towel in hand.

This time he didn’t fight it. He let mom pick him up.

“Chirp, chirp. Squawk, SQUAWK.” Each chirp faster than the last.

She just cooed him once more trying to allow his little heart to slow down.

“He is not staying here” says Dad.

“Awe!!” The kids start to whine.

“No, he will eat Peter” Dad said firmly.

“WHAT!?” The children began to cry.

Peter wanted to cry.

The kids went to Grandma’s room for some much-needed cuddles while Mom and Dad tried to find a solution.

“We could train him?” Mom offered.

“He isn’t ours.” Dad reminded her.

“It’s only for a week.” Mom reminded him.

Mom put Peter back on top of his cage and Dad took the beast outside.

Before he knew it the sun was going down and it was nearly 7:00 pm.

Peter could hear the familiar sounds of the kids getting baths and getting in pajamas. Soon they would be up stairs covering him up and turning off the lights.

Or that is what he thought, instead they brought the beast upstairs and placed him in his kennel. A new sound vibrated just around his little round orange spots the kids called his cheeks.

Peter pecked at his ladder and hissed.

Then the sound rose. The Beast was whimpering?

Instead of placing the tan sheet over his cage the kids stopped. They turned around and dropped to the Beast’s kennel.

They rubbed his paw and began to sing.

Peter felt strange as he watched them.

Peter felt sorry for the beast but as the kids made a bed next to his kennel he couldnt help but...

No, Peter was a particular bird that stuck to his routine.

Wasn’t he?

He watched as one child rubbed his paw. They all sang a lullaby as they comfortably laid on pillows.

The song continued until the beast made a sound Peter had only heard from Dad.

Was the beast snoring?

Peter tried to sleep. Honest he did. But something deep in his belly twisted as the night went on.

“Humph” Peter chirped.  

“Shh” one of the girls said.

Suddenly Peter let out a soft static hiss that sounded like a baby cry.

“Was she still his?” He wondered.

Did this room still belong to him? Sure, it was much bigger than he needed. But he had never had to share

—Before.

A few days passed and Peter was getting better at hiding and running on his tiny feet to get away from the wet nose that had brushed against him the first day.

“Ugh” Peter shivered at the thought.

He had to admit it was fun to chirp during the beast's nap time. He timed it perfectly. As soon as mom put him in his kennel, Peter would wait until he heard his snore. Then he flew over and started to sing.

The beast would flop about groaning as he hit each high note. Mom laughed and said,

“That will teach you to scare Peter.”

He even began to enjoy the singing at night. He would perch on his ladder and nestle into his feathers. Allowing the song to lull him to sleep.

The twist he once had in his stomach started to unravel.

He enjoyed the singing.

He enjoyed the company.  

Even passed 7:45 pm.

One day, Peter woke up to the beast’s kennel moving.

“Oh no! He is going to escape!” Peter chirped.

“Sound the alarm!” He squawked again.

Dad laughed as he took apart the beast’s kennel— but where was the beast?

Peter flew around expecting him to snap at him any minute. He was ready this time. He was not going to catch him by surprise.

No Beast.

Peter was confused as he flew down with Dad downstairs.

Peter heard the door open and a strange man and woman stood in the door way.

They seemed nice. Huge smiles and one of them was holding the beast in their arms.

He licked their face and allowed them to cradle him.

Then, just as quickly as they arrived, they were gone again.

The entire house was silent.

“Humph” said Peter. “It’s about time.”

He flew back upstairs to the window and began to listen to the rain fall softly.

Things went back to normal. The kids would wake up, go to school, eat dinner, take a shower, and then go to bed after playing.

He should be happy, right?

Peter tried to settle back into his old routine but instead he felt

Sad.

Then one night around 7:30 PM the children all sat next to his bed on Grandma’s old couch.  A beautiful little hum rose and turned into a song. The song.

Peter perked up. Oh, he missed that lullaby. Peter started to sing.

They stopped.

“Sorry, Peter we know you like it quiet so you can sleep.”

They put their heads down and got up from the coach. Peter watched as they walked to turn the light off.

But, before they could, he began to sing.

The kids froze.

Their eyes went wide. They could not believe it.

Peter was singing their song!

From then on, Peter was still a particular kind of bird that demanded the lights off by 7:30 pm. But now, he was a particular bird the kids sang to until they all fell fast asleep.

—The End