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outside infont of the wood pile next to the red barn, Grandpa goat and Billy Goat stands beside a tall pile of logs, eyes wide, as Grandpa Goat with a wiggling beard gently pats his head. a hen and three chicks peck and scratch the ground.
Billy Goat skipped to Grandpa Goat's barn. Grandpa's long beard wiggled as he smiled. "Billy, I need help with firewood today," Grandpa said. Billy's eyes grew big and bright. "I can help!" he said, bouncing up and down. Grandpa patted Billy's head. "First, we need to count the wood pieces," Grandpa explained. Billy nodded. He loved counting! "Let's start together," said Grandpa. Billy felt so grown up and helpful.
On the barn floor in warm afternoon light, Billy Goat crouches, hoof touching a row of ten wooden logs, mouth mid-count. Behind him, Grandpa Goat stands smiling proudly, plaid shirt sleeves rolled, hands resting on his suspenders.
Grandpa pointed to the wood pile. "Let's count together," he said. Billy touched each piece. "One, two, three," Billy counted carefully. Grandpa smiled proudly. "Four, five, six," Billy continued. His little hooves tapped each log. "Seven, eight, nine, ten!" Billy shouted happily. "Wonderful counting!" Grandpa cheered. Billy's plaid shirt puffed with pride. "We have ten pieces of wood," said Grandpa. Billy grinned from ear to ear.
Inside the dim barn, a single hanging bulb casts warm light on two distinct wood piles. Billy Goat carefully places a small log onto the shorter stack, while Grandpa Goat lifts a hefty piece toward the taller pile, both concentrating.
"Now let's sort the wood," Grandpa said. He showed Billy two piles. "Big pieces here, small pieces there," explained Grandpa. Billy picked up a small log. "This one is small!" he said, placing it carefully. Then he found a big piece. "This one is big and heavy!" Billy grunted. Grandpa helped him move it. They sorted all ten pieces together. "Good job sorting!" Grandpa said. Billy smiled at their neat piles.
Under late-afternoon sunlight streaming through the barn window, a growing tower of logs stands on the floor. Billy Goat stretches on tip-hoof, suspenders taut, adding a third log while Grandpa Goat watches beside him with a guiding hand raised.
"Let's stack the wood now," said Grandpa. Billy watched carefully. Grandpa placed one log down flat. "You try, Billy," Grandpa encouraged. Billy put another log on top. "One, two logs high!" Billy said. He added another piece carefully. "Three logs high!" Billy counted. The stack grew taller and taller. Billy's suspenders stretched as he reached up. "Be careful," Grandpa reminded him gently. Billy nodded and stacked slowly.
Inside the barn’s golden evening light, two identical four-log stacks sit side by side on the straw. Billy Goat, front hooves lifted in a small celebratory hop, grins at Grandpa Goat, who proudly gestures toward his matching pile.
Billy made another stack. "I'll count again!" he said excitedly. He placed logs one by one. "One, two, three, four," Billy counted out loud. Grandpa made a stack too. "How many in yours, Grandpa?" Billy asked. "I have four pieces too," Grandpa answered. Billy jumped happily. "We match!" he exclaimed. They had made three neat stacks together. The wood looked so organized now. Billy felt very proud of their work.
Under the soft glow of a barn lantern, three neat wood stacks stand upright. Grandpa Goat tightens rope around one bundle while Billy Goat concentrates on knotting his own short rope around another, tongues poking slightly in shared focus.
Grandpa brought out some rope. "Now we tie the stacks," he explained. Billy watched as Grandpa wrapped rope around one stack. "Can I try?" Billy asked eagerly. Grandpa gave him a short rope. Billy wrapped it around his stack. Grandpa helped tie the knot tight. "You're learning so much!" Grandpa praised. Billy's chest puffed out proudly. They tied all three stacks together. The firewood was ready for winter now.
In the tidy barn lit by morning rays, Billy Goat touches the rope-bound bundles, counting ‘three’ aloud, while a wicker basket with two extra sticks rests nearby. Grandpa Goat nods approvingly, holding a small broom he and Billy just used.
"Let's count all the wood one more time," suggested Grandpa. Billy touched each bundle. "One, two, three bundles!" he announced. Grandpa nodded happily. They picked up loose pieces from the ground. Billy found two more small sticks. "Two more to add!" he said. They put them in a basket. The barn looked clean and tidy now. Billy swept the floor with a small broom. Everything was neat and organized.
Outside the barn at sunset, the sky glowing orange, Grandpa Goat wraps Billy Goat in a warm hug, long beard brushing Billy’s nose and making him giggle. Nearby, a dirt path and distant farmhouse hint at their walk home.
Grandpa hugged Billy tight. "You were such a good helper today," he said warmly. Billy beamed with happiness. "I counted and stacked and tied!" Billy said proudly. Grandpa's beard tickled Billy's nose. They both laughed together. "You learned so much," Grandpa said. Billy nodded eagerly. "Can I help again tomorrow?" he asked hopefully. "Of course!" Grandpa answered with a smile. They walked home together, hoof in hoof, very happy.