Never Walk in Shoes That Talk by Katherine Applegate

Author:Katherine Applegate [Applegate, Katherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: Ages 7 & Up
ISBN: 9780061919855
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2009-06-23T07:00:00+00:00

9

Baby Drool, Foot Sweat, and Other Problems

Mom drove me to Gus’s house that afternoon after school.

Gus was sitting on the front porch.

His mom was helping his little brother, Albert, ride a blue plastic trike.

His dad had Babette in a pouch thingie that hung from his chest.

He looked like a kangaroo with a beard.

My mom ran over to make ooh-how-cute noises about the baby.

I ran over to Gus to make ooh-how-gross noises about the baby.

When Mom finally drove off, I am pretty sure she was still oohing in the car.

“So, Roscoe,” said Gus’s dad, “these are the famous Walkie-Talkies I’ve heard so much about.”

I held up a foot so he could see one.

As he leaned over, Babette drooled on my sock.

I tried not to look shocked.

But I was for sure going to have to throw that sock away when I got home.

“You push this button here,” I said. “And if someone else has Walkie-Talkies, you can talk to them.”

“Wow,” said Gus’s dad. “How cool is that? Do they come in adult sizes?”

“Gary,” said Gus’s mom, “you’re not really helping.”

“Oops,” said Gus’s dad. He winked at Gus. “They are awesome, Gus. When your sneakers wear out, we’ll talk about it.”

“These are Ruff and Tuffs, Dad. They never wear out,” said Gus.

Gus’s dad was about to answer, but Babette started crying.

“Gotta change the kid,” said Gus’s dad.

Just then, Albert tipped over on his trike and skinned his elbow.

He cried even louder than Babette.

“Boys, you two will have to come inside while we take care of the little ones,” Gus’s mom said.

We followed the two screaming kids and Gus’s parents inside.

The house smelled like baby.

“Gus!” his dad said. “Could you bring me some baby wipes? They’re in the diaper bag in Babette’s room.”

“And grab that box of Band-Aids in the bathroom, Gus,” added his mom.

“Sometimes I hate being a big brother,” Gus muttered.

“I know it’s hard, sweetheart,” said his mom.

Gus headed up the stairs. A few minutes later, he came back with a box of baby wipes and some Band-Aids.

“Let’s go play in my room,” he said. “There’s too many little kids down here.

It’s like an alien invasion.”

Gus’s room was even messier than mine.

I sat down on a pile of dirty clothes and felt right at home.

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