Barnaby Button wasn’t like the other children. While they built sandcastles, Barnaby built…pickle-powered submarines. He wasn’t naughty, just blessed (or cursed, depending on who you asked) with a booming imagination. His adventures often involved talking squirrels, singing cacti, and definitely, definitely, pickles. One sunny afternoon, Barnaby decided today’s fun would be an educational expedition! He…
Barnaby Button, a boy with a giggle like a squeaky toy, was, to put it mildly, allergic to seriousness. School was a jungle gym of spilled paints and backwards hats; chores were obstacle courses involving rogue socks and runaway dust bunnies. Barnaby believed in *fun* above all else. One day, during a particularly dry History…
Barnaby Buttonsworth was a most peculiar pig. Not just because he wore a tiny top hat and monocle (which he did), but because Barnaby believed with all his squeaky heart that clouds were made of…laughter. Now, the other little *children* pigs in Farmer Giles’ yard thought Barnaby was utterly bonkers. “Laughter?!” they’d snort, spraying bits…
Barnaby Button was a button, obviously. Not a fancy, pearl button. Oh no, Barnaby was a bright yellow, slightly lopsided, coat button. He lived on the coat of a very serious, very stuffy, professor who never, ever had any *fun. This professor lectured children about the importance of dust-free doilies and the proper way to…
Barnaby Button was, to put it mildly, a button-collecting bunny. But not just any buttons! Barnaby only collected buttons that talked. One day, while burrowing deep in his garden (an adventure in itself!), he unearthed a particularly shiny, rainbow-colored button. “Greetings, little bunny!” it chirped, in a voice like tinkling bells. “I am the Button…
Barnaby Button was a button. Not just any button, mind you. Barnaby was a thinking button. And frankly, he was bored. He lived on Mildred McMillan’s cardigan, a scratchy, itchy thing that smelled faintly of mothballs. “This is no fun!” he grumbled to himself, his tiny button-brain whirring. “I want adventure!” Suddenly, Mildred sneezed! Barnaby,…
Barnaby Buttons was, to put it mildly, a walking disaster. Not a bad disaster, mind you. Just a… plum-pudding-falling-off-a-table-onto-a-cat-wearing-a-hat kind of disaster. One Tuesday, Barnaby, a small boy with a nose for fun and a mop of perpetually windswept hair, decided he needed an adventure. “Today,” he declared to his pet rock, Reginald, “we are…
Barnaby Button, a *child with a nose for fun* and an even bigger imagination, was convinced his garden gnome, Gnorman, could talk. Nobody else believed him. “He’s just ceramic, Barnaby,” his mum would say, handing him a carrot stick. But Barnaby knew. Gnorman just needed… motivation. One sunny afternoon, Barnaby decided on an *adventure*. “Gnorman,”…
Barnaby Button, a boy with a button nose and an even button-ier collection of buttons, loved *adventure. But not the usual kind! His fun* came from imagining the secret lives of his buttons. He believed each one told a different story, and he, Barnaby, was their listener. One day, while sorting his buttons with his…
Once upon a time, in a land where clouds tasted like cotton candy and trees wore polka-dotted socks, lived a group of *children with unusually bouncy shoes. They weren’t just any shoes; these were Giggle-Boots! And with Giggle-Boots, every step was a giggle-fueled adventure*. The leader of this bouncy bunch was a girl named Pip….
