been doing, Sophie?” Beatrice asked.
“Me an’ my toys been playing BIG FORT! Mrs. Cow don’t like it though.”
She held out a crabby-looking baby doll. Mrs. Cow was Sophie’s favorite toy.
“Doesn’t. Mrs. Cow doesn’t like it,” corrected Beatrice.
“Right. A ’cause of the darknest,” said Sophie in a dramatic whisper behind her hand.
“ Be cause of the dark ness ,” said Beatrice. She looked at the scowling doll. “Why do
you call her Mrs. Cow, Sophie? She’s not actually a cow.”
“A ’cause she’s married to Mr. Cow , a ’course!” Sophie laughed and pointed to a large,
smiling, stuffed yellow rabbit. Mr. Cow did not seem to be aware of his cranky doll-wife.
Beatrice closed her eyes.
“Okay. Whatever. Sophie, why haven’t you put anything away? Your room’s a total mess,”
she said. “Need some help?”
“It’s all done!” said Sophie happily.
Beatrice stared at Sophie. “You’re going to leave it this way?”
“Yup. I love it like this.”
“But all the boxes…” protested Beatrice.
“I play in ’em.”
“Your books…” Beatrice looked over to the corner where a box of books had been dumped
on the floor in a fluttery heap, like an odd little book-bush.
“I can reach ’em all,” explained Sophie.
“What about your toys?” said Beatrice. She waved her hand at the mountains of toys
around the room. Dolls and stuffed animals and blocks and puzzle pieces were all
heaped in piles. “At least let me help you organize those.”
“No! Don’t touch ’em!” shrieked Sophie.
She slid off the bed in a crashing heap and stumbled over to her toys. “I like ’em
all over the place ’cause I can roll in ’em!”
She and grumpy Mrs. Cow began rolling in the toys.
Beatrice shut her eyes and took a deep breath. She remembered her list of Things
To Do When I Feel Like Exploding . She had written it yesterday.
This was the list:
1. Don’t say anything
(note: things said before
exploding can be mean and
unprofessional)
2. Count to ten (note: I do
not find this very effective.
Add to list of Things Supposed
to Work Which Do Not)
3. Imagine a peaceful, lovely,
perfectly organized something
(like my room or my lists or
making lists in my room)
4. Imagine actually
exploding (very messy)
5. Growl to myself
6. Add to my Things That
Are Frustrating list
7. Take Edison for a walk
(fresh air + exercise = calm)
“ Rrrrrrrr …” growled Beatrice quietly, trying out number five. It helped a little.
She walked quickly out of Sophie’s room, shut the door on the mess and went across
to her own room. She sat at her desk and opened a drawer. She got out her list of Things That Are Frustrating .
She found the end of the list.
216. Messy movers
Then she wrote:
217. Sophie’s hopelessly
messy new room
She thought a bit more, then wrote:
218. Sophie’s hair (but she
can’t help it)
She flipped back through many pages to the beginning of the list.
“This is becoming my longest list ever,” she said to her perfect room.
Chapter Three
Beatrice went to find Edison.
She had named their dog after Thomas Edison, the great inventor. He was on Beatrice’s
list of Highly Successful, Very Professional People Who Have Done Great Things .
Her family also had a goldfish. Sophie had named him Super-Pig. Beatrice liked to
think Sophie named him Super-Pig because he ate a lot, but she wasn’t sure.
“Edison!” she called. “Time for walkies!”
Beatrice walked Edison three times a day. She had read every puppy book in the library.
They all said responsible dog owners should walk their dogs at least twice a day.
So Beatrice figured that three walks a day would make her the best pet owner she
could be.
Beatrice looked for Edison in the downstairs mess.
“Edison!” she called louder. “ Walk! ”
Edison was a big, lazy, shaggy brown dog. He had sleepy eyes and a very big, very
drooly mouth. He dearly loved sleeping,
“Me an’ my toys been playing BIG FORT! Mrs. Cow don’t like it though.”
She held out a crabby-looking baby doll. Mrs. Cow was Sophie’s favorite toy.
“Doesn’t. Mrs. Cow doesn’t like it,” corrected Beatrice.
“Right. A ’cause of the darknest,” said Sophie in a dramatic whisper behind her hand.
“ Be cause of the dark ness ,” said Beatrice. She looked at the scowling doll. “Why do
you call her Mrs. Cow, Sophie? She’s not actually a cow.”
“A ’cause she’s married to Mr. Cow , a ’course!” Sophie laughed and pointed to a large,
smiling, stuffed yellow rabbit. Mr. Cow did not seem to be aware of his cranky doll-wife.
Beatrice closed her eyes.
“Okay. Whatever. Sophie, why haven’t you put anything away? Your room’s a total mess,”
she said. “Need some help?”
“It’s all done!” said Sophie happily.
Beatrice stared at Sophie. “You’re going to leave it this way?”
“Yup. I love it like this.”
“But all the boxes…” protested Beatrice.
“I play in ’em.”
“Your books…” Beatrice looked over to the corner where a box of books had been dumped
on the floor in a fluttery heap, like an odd little book-bush.
“I can reach ’em all,” explained Sophie.
“What about your toys?” said Beatrice. She waved her hand at the mountains of toys
around the room. Dolls and stuffed animals and blocks and puzzle pieces were all
heaped in piles. “At least let me help you organize those.”
“No! Don’t touch ’em!” shrieked Sophie.
She slid off the bed in a crashing heap and stumbled over to her toys. “I like ’em
all over the place ’cause I can roll in ’em!”
She and grumpy Mrs. Cow began rolling in the toys.
Beatrice shut her eyes and took a deep breath. She remembered her list of Things
To Do When I Feel Like Exploding . She had written it yesterday.
This was the list:
1. Don’t say anything
(note: things said before
exploding can be mean and
unprofessional)
2. Count to ten (note: I do
not find this very effective.
Add to list of Things Supposed
to Work Which Do Not)
3. Imagine a peaceful, lovely,
perfectly organized something
(like my room or my lists or
making lists in my room)
4. Imagine actually
exploding (very messy)
5. Growl to myself
6. Add to my Things That
Are Frustrating list
7. Take Edison for a walk
(fresh air + exercise = calm)
“ Rrrrrrrr …” growled Beatrice quietly, trying out number five. It helped a little.
She walked quickly out of Sophie’s room, shut the door on the mess and went across
to her own room. She sat at her desk and opened a drawer. She got out her list of Things That Are Frustrating .
She found the end of the list.
216. Messy movers
Then she wrote:
217. Sophie’s hopelessly
messy new room
She thought a bit more, then wrote:
218. Sophie’s hair (but she
can’t help it)
She flipped back through many pages to the beginning of the list.
“This is becoming my longest list ever,” she said to her perfect room.
Chapter Three
Beatrice went to find Edison.
She had named their dog after Thomas Edison, the great inventor. He was on Beatrice’s
list of Highly Successful, Very Professional People Who Have Done Great Things .
Her family also had a goldfish. Sophie had named him Super-Pig. Beatrice liked to
think Sophie named him Super-Pig because he ate a lot, but she wasn’t sure.
“Edison!” she called. “Time for walkies!”
Beatrice walked Edison three times a day. She had read every puppy book in the library.
They all said responsible dog owners should walk their dogs at least twice a day.
So Beatrice figured that three walks a day would make her the best pet owner she
could be.
Beatrice looked for Edison in the downstairs mess.
“Edison!” she called louder. “ Walk! ”
Edison was a big, lazy, shaggy brown dog. He had sleepy eyes and a very big, very
drooly mouth. He dearly loved sleeping,
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