Once upon a time, in a sunny little village, Grandpa planted a tiny turnip seed in his garden. He patted the soil gently and said, “Grow big and strong, little seed!” Grandpa loved growing vegetables. But this turnip? Oh, this turnip had big plans. It grew bigger and bigger. By the time Grandpa came back to check, it had grown into the biggest, fattest, roundest turnip anyone had ever seen. It was as big as a watermelon, no, even bigger—a turnip as tall as Grandpa himself!

“Well,” Grandpa chuckled, “it’s time to pull this turnip out!” He grabbed onto the leafy top, wrapped his hands around it tightly, and pulled with all his might. He pulled and pulled and pulled, but the turnip didn’t budge. It just sat there, looking smug and enormous in the dirt.

Grandpa scratched his head. “I need help,” he said. So he called Grandma. “Grandma, come here!” he shouted. Grandma came waddling over, wiping flour off her hands from baking cookies. “This turnip’s stuck!” Grandpa said. Together, they grabbed the turnip—Grandpa holding the leaves, and Grandma holding onto Grandpa—and pulled. They pulled and pulled and pulled some more, but the turnip didn’t move an inch.

Grandma shook her head. “Let’s get some extra hands!” she said. So they called their granddaughter, Annie. Annie hopped over, her pigtails bouncing, and said, “I’ll help!” Annie grabbed Grandma’s waist, Grandma grabbed Grandpa’s waist, and Grandpa grabbed the turnip. “Ready?” Grandpa asked. “On three! One, two, three!” They pulled and pulled and pulled so hard that their faces turned red, but the turnip stayed right where it was, perfectly stuck in the ground.

Annie pouted. “This turnip has superpowers!” she said. But Grandpa wasn’t ready to give up. “We need someone stronger!” So they called their dog, Spot. Spot wagged his tail and came bounding over, barking excitedly. Spot loved helping—especially if treats were involved. He grabbed onto Annie’s leg with his paws, Annie grabbed Grandma’s waist, Grandma grabbed Grandpa’s waist, and Grandpa held onto the turnip. They all pulled together, tugging until Spot’s wagging tail became a blur. Still, nothing. The turnip seemed to grin up at them like, “Nice try, folks!”

Grandma threw her hands up. “Let’s call the cat!” she said. So they called the cat, Whiskers. Whiskers was not thrilled about helping. She stretched lazily, then strutted over with her nose in the air. “Come on, Whiskers,” Annie begged. Whiskers sighed dramatically and hopped onto Spot’s back, Spot held Annie, Annie held Grandma, Grandma held Grandpa, and Grandpa held the turnip. “Ready? Pull!” Grandpa shouted. They pulled and pulled and pulled so hard that Whiskers stopped yawning. But the turnip? Not a twitch.

Annie gave the turnip a stern look. “You’re not being very polite, you know!” Spot barked in agreement, and Whiskers rolled her eyes. Grandpa scratched his head again. “Let’s call the mouse,” he said. Grandma gasped. “The mouse? Really?” But Grandpa nodded firmly. So off they went to find Squeaky, the tiniest little mouse in the house.

Squeaky scurried over, squeaking, “I’m here! Let’s do this!” Everyone looked doubtful, but Squeaky didn’t care. He scrambled onto Whiskers’ back, Whiskers held Spot, Spot held Annie, Annie held Grandma, Grandma held Grandpa, and Grandpa held the turnip. “Alright,” Grandpa said, “one last try! Pull!” And oh, did they pull. They pulled and pulled and pulled and—POP! Out came the turnip, flying through the air like a rocket! Everyone tumbled backward into a heap, laughing and cheering.

The turnip was so big that they cooked it into soup, fries, and even pie, and shared it with the whole village. As they munched together, Grandpa grinned. “Teamwork makes the dream work!”