Short Stories for Kids: Bedtime ~ Car Time ~ Downtime
Aug 19, 2026 · 10 min · 6 segments
Written by Alex Come and follow more adventures on our animated TV show on Youtube! 📺🤩 SUBSCRIBE HERE: youtube.com/@shortstoriesforkidspodcast…
When David woke up on Monday morning, the first thing he noticed was the cloud floating over his bed.
It wasn't on the ceiling.
It wasn't outside the window.
It was floating right above his head.
"Uh, Mom," David called.
"There's a weather system in my room." His mom peeked in, holding a very black piece of toast.
"Oh, don't be silly, Dave.
Ah! Is that a cloud?" David sat up.
The cloud hovered with him.
"I think it's following me," he said, blinking.
Drip.
Water landed on his head.
His mom sighed.
"Are you feeling a little under the weather?" David sighed.
At breakfast, David glared at the charred toast on his plate.
"Oh, Mom," he groaned.
"You know I hate burnt toast." Immediately, the cloud began to drizzle right over him.
His scrambled eggs got soggy.
His hair frizzed.
His cat, Pickles, took one look at the storm and ran under the table.
"Oh, great," David muttered.
"I've got a personal rain cloud now." The more he frowned, the more it rained.
By the time he got on the school bus, he was carrying an umbrella and wearing swimming goggles.
On the bus, things got worse.
David was just settling in when someone behind, Betsy Russell, the girl who was constantly being told off for chewing gum, whispered, "Hey, David." He turned.
When David woke up on Monday morning, the first thing he noticed was the cloud floating over his bed.
It wasn't on the ceiling.
It wasn't outside the window.
It was floating right above his head.
"Uh, Mom," David called.
"There's a weather system in my room." His mom peeked in, holding a very black piece of toast.
"Oh, don't be silly, Dave.
Ah! Is that a cloud?" David sat up.
The cloud hovered with him.
"I think it's following me," he said, blinking.
Drip.
Water landed on his head.
His mom sighed.
"Are you feeling a little under the weather?" David sighed.
At breakfast, David glared at the charred toast on his plate.
"Oh, Mom," he groaned.
"You know I hate burnt toast." Immediately, the cloud began to drizzle right over him.
His scrambled eggs got soggy.
His hair frizzed.
His cat, Pickles, took one look at the storm and ran under the table.
"Oh, great," David muttered.
"I've got a personal rain cloud now." The more he frowned, the more it rained.
By the time he got on the school bus, he was carrying an umbrella and wearing swimming goggles.
On the bus, things got worse.
David was just settling in when someone behind, Betsy Russell, the girl who was constantly being told off for chewing gum, whispered, "Hey, David." He turned.
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