Melonhead and the Big Stink by Katy Kelly

Author:Katy Kelly [Kelly, Katy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-375-89656-9
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2010-06-08T04:00:00+00:00

13

UH-OH

My dad got home in time for banana pudding.

“Daddy-O-Dad,” I said. “The big day is coming soon. Let’s leave at five a.m.!”

“We’d better leave at four-thirty,” he said. “The Big Stink waits for no man.”

“Or boys,” I said.

My dad leaned over my mom’s chair and kissed her head. “How goes the garden?”

“If the ladybugs would get to work it would be great,” she said. “How was your day?”

“Our meeting at the Newseum went so well, we finished early,” he said.

“I hope you had time for a nice lunch,” she said.

“I thought I would but traffic was stalled up and down Constitution Avenue,” he said. “I couldn’t catch a cab. I ended up walking fourteen blocks back to the office.”

“Maybe the president’s motorcade was in the neighborhood,” my mom said.

“Maybe,” he said. “Let’s take a look at your prizewinning garden before supper.”

“Your phone is ringing,” I said.

“It’s the office,” he said. “I’ll make it quick.”

He did.

“That was Roxanne Lopez,” he said. “She said she sent me something from YouTube and I have to drop everything and look.”

“Is this bad news?” my mom asked.

“No,” he said. “She said it’s the funniest thing she’s seen in months.”

“Let’s look!” I said.

“Let’s look at the garden first,” he said.

“The garden will always be there,” I said.

“So will the video,” my dad said. “The Internet lasts forever.”

“Please?” I asked.

“Go ahead,” my mom said. “Adam was so responsible today, I’ll turn my time slot over to him.”

My dad opened his laptop and clicked on Mrs. Lopez’s message. “It’s called ‘DC Ducklings,’” he said.

My stomach hit my feet.

“Forget it,” I said. “I changed my mind. Who cares about seeing ducks? Not me.”

My dad hit Play.

“They’re so cute,” my mom said.

“But not funny,” I said. “Let’s go outside, right now. We can have a night of looking at flowers and family talking. Mom loves those.”

“Shhh!” my mom said.

“This is boring,” I said, “I’m going outside.”

“Hold your horses, Sport,” my dad said.

My feeling was desperate.

“Screen time rots your brain,” I said. “Believe me. If you don’t, ask Sam’s mom. Turn it off before it’s too late.”

It already was. I was flopping around in the fountain, right before my own eyes. Sam’s underpants were showing. Baby ducks were squawking. The suit man was belly flopping.

“Poor guy!” My mom laughed. “Look at his hair!”

“This is hilarious,” my dad said.

“Whew,” I said. “I was afraid you’d be mad.”

My mom stared at the screen. “Is that you, Adam?” she said.

“Is that Sam?” my dad said.

“You are IN a FOUNTAIN!” my mom said.

“Why did you go in a fountain?” my dad asked.

“Nobody ever told me I couldn’t go in fountains,” I said. “How could I know?”

“You could have drowned. Or been bitten by a duck. Or arrested. I can’t bear to think how many eye infections you caught.”

“This is a fowl attack!” my dad said. “Look at the mother duck going after you, Sport!”

“Why would she do that? They’re kids,” my mom said. “And Adam, how deep is that fountain?”

“It wasn’t over our heads,” I said.

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