The Good Day Tower
Mila woke up with a ray of sunshine on her nose.
She opened one eye. Then she opened the other. The room was very quiet, as if it were still asleep.
On the rug, waiting for her, was the rabbit family pyramid.
The largest piece looked like a pink house. The blue piece had a long-eared rabbit. The green piece smiled like a small meadow. The yellow one shone like warm bread.
Mila sat on the floor and touched the first piece.
“Good morning, rabbits,” she whispered.
No one answered. Of course not. They were drawn rabbits.
But Mila had an imagination that woke up before breakfast.
She placed the largest piece on the rug.
“This is Granny Rabbit’s house.”
Then she placed another on top.
“This is Uncle Rabbit’s house.”
The tower was a little crooked.
Mila paused. Looked. Breathed.
“Slowly counts too,” she said, just as her mother would say when shoelaces wouldn’t tie.
She removed the piece and tried again.
This time, the house stood straight.
In her head, Granny Rabbit opened a window.
“What a beautiful morning!” Mila imagined.
Mila smiled and looked for the next piece. It was blue, fresh as water.
“Cousin Rabbit lives here, he likes to wash carrots.”
She put the blue piece on top of the tower.
The tower shook just a little.
Mila held it with both hands. She didn’t get angry. She wasn’t in a hurry.
Outside, a little bird chirped.
“Do you want to help too?” Mila asked.
The little bird chirped again, which sounded like a tiny yes.
Then Mila counted on her fingers.
“One house. Two houses. Three houses.”
The roof piece was missing.
It was the smallest. It had sweet colors and looked like a party hat.
Mila picked it up very carefully.
At that moment, the tower trembled.
“Oh!”
The green piece slipped. The blue one followed. The pink house lay on its side on the rug.
The entire rabbit family was scattered.
Mila stayed still.
Then she let out a short laugh.
“They were all still in bed after all!”
She started again.
First, the big house. Then, the house that looked like grass. Then, the blue house. Then, the yellow one. Finally, the roof.
This time, the tower went up straight.
Mila clapped her hands softly, so as not to scare the rabbits.
In her imagination, a tiny door opened on the ground floor. A rabbit in an apron came out.
“Who wants oatmeal?” he asked.
Upstairs, another rabbit waved a toothbrush.
“Brush your teeth first!”
On the roof, the smallest bunny appeared with an invisible flag.
“Good morning, world!”
Mila raised her arms.
“Good morning!”
Her mother peeked through the door.
“Have you woken up the whole house already?”
Mila pointed to the tower.
“I woke up the rabbits. First I knocked them down. Then I did it again.”
Her mother sat beside her.
“That’s called trying.”
“And counting,” Mila said.
They counted the pieces of the pyramid together.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Then they counted the rabbits.
Then they counted the sunbeams on the rug, but those always escaped to another place.
Mila rested her cheek against the largest piece.
“Tomorrow, should I build a taller tower?”
“Tomorrow, you build whatever tower you want,” her mother replied.
Mila looked at the rabbit family, all stacked in their colorful little house.
They looked ready to have breakfast, wash their paws, and set off on an adventure on the rug.
But first, they stayed there, still, guarding the morning.
And Mila stayed too.
Because sometimes a small tower is enough to make the day start big.
3 play ideas
Awake Tower. Stack the pieces one by one and invent who wakes up on each floor: Granny Rabbit, Baby Rabbit, Cousin Rabbit, or another imagined inhabitant.
Count with care. Count the pieces, the colors, and the rabbits. Then dismantle the tower and count again, celebrating each attempt unhurriedly.
Little house on the rug. Use cushions, cloths, or simple blocks to create a small village around the pyramid, where the rabbit family can roam.
Featured product
The 123 Rabbit Family Pyramid inspires stacking games, counting, and inventing small stories. It is a sweet presence for moments of quiet discovery, with colors, numbers, and characters that follow the child's rhythm.
