The War with Grandpa by Robert Kimmel Smith

Author:Robert Kimmel Smith
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780307549020
Publisher: A YEARLING BOOK
Published: 2009-06-23T21:00:00+00:00

I stared into Grandpa's brown eyes that looked so mean to me now. “I won't forget this,” I said.

“That's the idea.”

“And I won't forgive it either. From now on we're really at war. “ I turned away and started back to the house, walking as fast as I could. I left Grandpa on the street, calling my name.

TIME OUT FOR JENNY

Well, now we had a real war going and I didn't like it one little bit. I'm really not too good at being mad at someone. My mom says I have a good heart and never hold a grudge. This is true. Even in the past, when my parents or Jenny did something that ticked me off, I always forgot about it by the next day.

So there I was at dinner that night, sitting across from Grandpa, and I really wanted to hate him for slapping me but I couldn't. I mean, he was my grandfather, for heaven's sake. He was old and alone and his leg hurt him. I would have to be as mean as Darth Vader to hate him.

Grandpa was really lively at dinner. He even told a couple of jokes nobody had heard before. He smiled and talked to me, too, but I couldn't tell if he really meant it or not. Was this the same man who had slapped me across the face only a few hours ago? I was confused.

So we had a regular evening that night, in spite of the mixed-up feelings I had. After dinner we settled down in the living room. Grandpa got out his box of dominoes and began to set them up for a game with Dad. Jenny disappeared for a few minutes, then came marching down the steps from her room wearing her tutu. In case you have never heard that word before, which I never did until Mom bought her one, let me tell you about a tutu. It's this little skirt that must have wires or something in it because it sticks out in a circle when a girl wears it. Jenny's was pink. How she got it was by being obnoxious. Because Mom didn't want to buy it for her, not until she had more than one year of ballet lessons. But Jenny is very different from me. I'm the kind of person who would have waited for a year, just like Mom said.

Not Jenny.

She went on a campaign for a tutu that was disgusting. She talked about it morning, noon, and night. She cried when she had to go for her ballet lessons. She told Mom that all the girls had a tutu, which was a lie, of course.

She even threw herself down on the floor and had a tantrum. I mean she kicked her heels on the floor and yelled her head off until Mom finally made her quit. When that didn't succeed, Jenny went to work on Dad. She got him alone at all different times, climbed up on his lap, and smothered him with kisses like a puppy licking your face.

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