Skippy Skips a Number

Skippy was Dodo’s cousin, a quick little bird who counted too fast. Skippy loved to zoom — and sometimes, when Skippy zoomed, a number went whoosh right past, skipped and left behind.

Skippy counted four acorns: “One, two, four!” Then Skippy looked puzzled. Did you hear it? A number was missing! You knew which one. “Skippy,” you said gently, “you skipped three.” Skippy gasped. “I did! Poor little three, left out.”

You showed Skippy the slow way: touch each acorn, say one number for each. “One” — touch. “Two” — touch. “Three” — touch. “Four” — touch. No number skipped, no acorn missed. Skippy watched your careful finger and nodded.

Skippy tried again, slow this time, following you. “One, two, three, four.” Every acorn got its number, and no number got left behind. “There’s three!” Skippy cheered. “I found it! You helped me not skip.” Catching the skip made you sure of the count.

Skippy gave you a grateful flutter. “Fast is fun, but slow is true,” Skippy said. From now on, Skippy would touch each thing and count it once. And you — you had counted extra carefully yourself, just to catch a cousin’s skip.