Baby Hippo’s Mud Bath

Once upon a time, by a quiet river in Africa, there lived a little baby hippo named Hana. Hana had the softest gray skin and the tiniest pink nose that wiggled when she was excited.

Every morning, Hana would wake up next to her mama hippo in their cozy spot by the water. The sun would shine down warm and golden, making everything sparkle like magic.

“Good morning, my little one,” Mama Hippo would say with a gentle rumble. “Are you ready for your special bath today?”

Hana would wiggle her ears and make happy little snorting sounds. She loved bath time more than anything in the whole wide world.

Mama Hippo would slowly wade into the cool river, with little Hana floating right beside her. The water felt so nice and refreshing on their skin. Hana would kick her tiny legs and splash softly, making little ripples dance across the water.

But the very best part of bath time was yet to come.

At the edge of the river was the most wonderful, squishy, gooey mud bank. It was smooth and brown and felt like the softest blanket in the world.

“Time for your mud bath, sweet Hana,” Mama would whisper.

Together, they would roll and wiggle in the warm, silky mud. It covered them from nose to tail, keeping their skin cool and protected from the bright sun. Hana felt so safe and cozy, all wrapped up in the smooth mud like a warm hug from the earth.

The mud smelled like rain and rivers and all the good things that grow. Little fish would swim nearby, and colorful birds would sing gentle songs from the trees above.

After their lovely mud bath, Hana and Mama would float lazily in the shallow water. The mud would slowly wash away, leaving their skin clean and happy. Hana’s eyes would start to feel heavy and sleepy.

“Close your eyes, little one,” Mama would hum softly. “Dream of warm mud baths and cool river water.”

And as the sun began to set, painting the sky in soft pinks and purples, baby Hana would drift off to sleep, floating peacefully next to her mama. She dreamed of tomorrow’s bath time, of splashing and rolling and feeling so wonderfully loved.

The river would gently rock them both as night fell, and all the animals of Africa would settle down for sweet dreams, just like little Hana.

The End.