Dewey Fairchild, Parent Problem Solver by Lorri Horn

Author:Lorri Horn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Middle grade, Parent and child, Psychology, Parenting, Self-actualization, Family
ISBN: 9781944995331
Publisher: Amberjack Publishing
Published: 2017-07-31T16:00:00+00:00

Everyone Out of the Pool

Texts between Michael and Seraphina:

Michael: Well if it weren’t so funny it would be terrible

M: Or maybe the other way around?

Seraphina: So it went well?

M: OMG, yes

S: Highlights, pls!

M: Me sitting on tub edge, door open so she can walk in

M: I wait almost twenty min. but . . . She enters

M: I bite down

M: She screams.

M: I take another bite, give big grin, and wipe my chin with TP!

S: No way!

S: Did she scream?

M: Out of her mind, hysterical

M: I felt kind of bad

S: So, now what?

M: She’s lying down with an ice pack on her head

M: I think I killed her.

S: Go tell her

M: I did

S: Go tell her again and the plan

M: Scared!

S: It will be OK, be brave! Go!

S: Text Dewey yet?

M: No, I will

M: Cya

Texts between Michael and Dewey:

M: OK, did it

M: Wildly successful, if killing her is part of your plan

D: Great job. Don’t worry if she’s upset. It’s part of the plan.

D: We left a plate of cookies on the porch. Go get them and bring them up to her with cup of tea. Tell the next steps.

D: One week. Hang in there.

M: Yeah, OK!



“You know,” Michael said, “when I was a kid, I thought Poison Control was this tall, windowed structure with surveillance displays and radar systems. Turns out it’s just an office with a bunch of phones, men, women, and a database ready with medical advice for, um, something like three million calls a year. That’s not as cool as what I was picturing when I was a little kid.”

“But three million calls a year? That’s a lot of poison. Someone is eating a lot of Tootsie Rolls!” laughed Dewey.

A week had passed, and the three of them were debriefing in Dewey’s office.

“Yeah, most of ’em are for snake bites and carbon monoxide and stuff like that. But there were like, almost 6,000 cases involving poop. No big surprise that most of the calls were about little kids—I don’t want to think about it otherwise! And guess what? Twenty-seven of the calls this year were listed as intentional.”

“What’s that mean?” asked Seraphina.

“That means,” Dewey chimed in, “that twenty-seven of those callers intentionally ate feces. And it wasn’t a Tootsie Roll, either!”

“Ewwwww!” they all cried out in unison.

“Well, I guess you’d have to count my cat litter party as ‘intentional’ though right? You know how little kids are when they stock the pool with brown trout. You gotta get ’em out fast!”

“Ewwwww!” cried Seraphina again. “That’s just gross.”

“Twenty-seven out of 6,000 is actually a pretty good stat,” claimed Dewey. “It would suggest the other 5,000 plus are getting out of the pool without tasting the floaties.”

“Yeah, ha! Guess you wouldn’t have been one of them!”

“That’s not funny,” said Michael with a half-smile, half-scowl.

“Can we please get to the matter at hand, Michael? How’d it go with your Mom?” asked Seraphina, who hadn’t been brought up to speed yet.

“She screamed for about forty-five minutes, and we’re going to need

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