The Block That Paid Rent — Under the striped rug’s tickly edge, Piper kept a plain blue block with a penny sticker on the bottom. Read the full story →
Under the striped rug’s tickly edge, Piper kept a plain blue block with a penny sticker on the bottom. She wanted to slip it into the tallest tower before Milo noticed, because he had let her drive the red car all morning—beep, beep, bump—without asking for a turn. Sun warmed the curtains, and the wooden floor smelled like crayons and dust. Milo stacked arches. Piper stacked cubes. Neither said anything about the blue block.
When the tower reached Piper’s nose, she pushed the special block into a middle room. A folded scrap fluttered out. “Dear builders,” Milo read, trying not to giggle, “I am paying rent in cheese crumbs. Signed, Mr. Sock Mouse.” Behind the block sat one fuzzy sock, rolled into a tiny tenant. Piper laughed so hard she nearly tipped the roof triangle. Milo bowed to the sock and whispered, “Welcome home.” If you peek at the busy tower, maybe you can guess which block was secretly worth one whole thank-you.