gators today, but it made Becky cry."
"I wish those caps were smaller," Mrs. Krupnik said. She tilted the visor a little and looked at Sam. "I can hardly see your face."
"Probably after I talk about bulls, Mrs. Bennett will read
Ferdinand,
" Sam told his mom.
"One of our favorites," she said, smiling.
That was true. They even had a tape of
Ferdinand
which they often played in the car. Sam
and his mother knew the whole story by heart. Sometimes they said it along with the tape.
"But then she'll have to explain about bullfighting, and Becky will cry," Sam said glumly. "Becky
always
cries."
"Oh, dear," Mrs. Krupnik said sympathetically. She dipped her tiny brush into some green paint and added a bit of green to the picture of elves she was working on. The elves were funny, Sam thought. They had chubby pink cheeks and pointed shoes.
"Nobody did artist for Future Job," Sam told her.
Secretly, Sam wished he had chosen artist. He could have worn jeans, the way his mother did, and put a paintbrush behind one ear, the way she had a paintbrush right now. He could have worn one of his father's old shirts, the way his mother did, and splattered it with paint of all colors.
"People change their minds about jobs," his mother told him. She looked carefully at the green that she had just painted onto an elf hat. Then, while Sam watched, she mixed a little yellow into her green and redid the pointed end of the tiny hat.
"Some kids might want to be, oh, lawyers," she said. "And maybe they even become lawyersâbut then they could change their mind and become artists."
"Or they could be zookeepers, and then change their mind," Sam suggested.
"I suppose so." His mother smiled at him. "But not when they have a great zooman suit made by their mom." She reached down and gave him a little tickle. Then she looked at his suit more closely. "Remind me to wash that tonight," she said. "You've been wearing it for two days. That looks like ketchup on the sleeveâoh, no!" She cringed.
"You shouldn't have said 'ketchup,' Mom," Sam pointed out needlessly, as Sleuth bounded into the room. Mrs. Krupnik held the edges of her table tightly so that the dog wouldn't bump into it and spill her water and paints.
"Sam, do me a favor. Take the dog and go practice a little animal training."
"Do I have a dog hat?" Sam asked.
Mrs. Krupnik thought. She had read all the hats to him on the first morning. "No," she said, "I'm afraid not. But you know what, Sam? You have a Timberwolves hat. And a timber wolf is very closely related to a dog, don't you think?"
Sam thought about it. In his mind he pictured a wolf. There were a lot of books with wolf pictures in them:
Red Riding Hood,
for one, and
The Three Little Pigs.
He looked at Sleuth, who was very shaggy, with white hair in his eyes and a fluffy tail that curled up over his back when he was happy, and hung down like a snowy pine tree branch when he was sad. Right now Sleuth's tail was up because he was the center of attention.
"Well," said Sam dubiously. "I guess he's sort of wolfy."
"So switch hats and take Sleuth out in the yard for some training. I have to get this picture done."
"Can Anastasia help me?"
"She isn't home," his mother explained. "She had to stay after school for Chorus."
Sam sighed. He headed back toward the living room. He wasn't looking forward to searching through all those hats again. "Come on, Sleuth," he said, and the dog followed him amiably.
"It will begin with T, and it will be the very longest word you have," his mother called.
That made it easy. There were only two T's,
and one was the Tigers hat that Sam had already worn. Sam set his Bulls cap aside and put on the Timberwolves cap.
He took his dog out into the large yard beside the house, and stood there wondering how on earth one went about teaching good behavior to an animal. Sleuth sat cheerfully at Sam's side and pawed at an acorn in the grass.
"Hey, Zooman!"
Sam looked up. Steve Harvey, Anastasia's
"I wish those caps were smaller," Mrs. Krupnik said. She tilted the visor a little and looked at Sam. "I can hardly see your face."
"Probably after I talk about bulls, Mrs. Bennett will read
Ferdinand,
" Sam told his mom.
"One of our favorites," she said, smiling.
That was true. They even had a tape of
Ferdinand
which they often played in the car. Sam
and his mother knew the whole story by heart. Sometimes they said it along with the tape.
"But then she'll have to explain about bullfighting, and Becky will cry," Sam said glumly. "Becky
always
cries."
"Oh, dear," Mrs. Krupnik said sympathetically. She dipped her tiny brush into some green paint and added a bit of green to the picture of elves she was working on. The elves were funny, Sam thought. They had chubby pink cheeks and pointed shoes.
"Nobody did artist for Future Job," Sam told her.
Secretly, Sam wished he had chosen artist. He could have worn jeans, the way his mother did, and put a paintbrush behind one ear, the way she had a paintbrush right now. He could have worn one of his father's old shirts, the way his mother did, and splattered it with paint of all colors.
"People change their minds about jobs," his mother told him. She looked carefully at the green that she had just painted onto an elf hat. Then, while Sam watched, she mixed a little yellow into her green and redid the pointed end of the tiny hat.
"Some kids might want to be, oh, lawyers," she said. "And maybe they even become lawyersâbut then they could change their mind and become artists."
"Or they could be zookeepers, and then change their mind," Sam suggested.
"I suppose so." His mother smiled at him. "But not when they have a great zooman suit made by their mom." She reached down and gave him a little tickle. Then she looked at his suit more closely. "Remind me to wash that tonight," she said. "You've been wearing it for two days. That looks like ketchup on the sleeveâoh, no!" She cringed.
"You shouldn't have said 'ketchup,' Mom," Sam pointed out needlessly, as Sleuth bounded into the room. Mrs. Krupnik held the edges of her table tightly so that the dog wouldn't bump into it and spill her water and paints.
"Sam, do me a favor. Take the dog and go practice a little animal training."
"Do I have a dog hat?" Sam asked.
Mrs. Krupnik thought. She had read all the hats to him on the first morning. "No," she said, "I'm afraid not. But you know what, Sam? You have a Timberwolves hat. And a timber wolf is very closely related to a dog, don't you think?"
Sam thought about it. In his mind he pictured a wolf. There were a lot of books with wolf pictures in them:
Red Riding Hood,
for one, and
The Three Little Pigs.
He looked at Sleuth, who was very shaggy, with white hair in his eyes and a fluffy tail that curled up over his back when he was happy, and hung down like a snowy pine tree branch when he was sad. Right now Sleuth's tail was up because he was the center of attention.
"Well," said Sam dubiously. "I guess he's sort of wolfy."
"So switch hats and take Sleuth out in the yard for some training. I have to get this picture done."
"Can Anastasia help me?"
"She isn't home," his mother explained. "She had to stay after school for Chorus."
Sam sighed. He headed back toward the living room. He wasn't looking forward to searching through all those hats again. "Come on, Sleuth," he said, and the dog followed him amiably.
"It will begin with T, and it will be the very longest word you have," his mother called.
That made it easy. There were only two T's,
and one was the Tigers hat that Sam had already worn. Sam set his Bulls cap aside and put on the Timberwolves cap.
He took his dog out into the large yard beside the house, and stood there wondering how on earth one went about teaching good behavior to an animal. Sleuth sat cheerfully at Sam's side and pawed at an acorn in the grass.
"Hey, Zooman!"
Sam looked up. Steve Harvey, Anastasia's
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