If ever you hear of a smarter kid than my older brother Jake, I’d like to know about it. Jake is the smartest kid this side of the Equator. He reads from an old book as thick as my head. And he likes to talk about planets and stars and animals. Just this morning he told me that crocodiles can’t stick out their tongues and only girl mosquitoes bite. I guess smart kids know these things. But the trouble with being so smart is that sometimes you think of things you shouldn’t. Things that leave you feeling like a lobster in a pot of boiling water.
For us the pot started boiling the day Mom asked Jake and me to take some soup to our neighbor, Mrs. Wilson. She was just getting over a bad case of the flu, Mom said. Dad told us it was from eating too many crickets, but I’m pretty sure he was kidding.
I always like going to Mrs. Wilson’s house. She’s a kind old lady just down the road who keeps candies in a jar by her door and sometimes lets me take her pet rabbit Harry out of its cage and chase it around the yard.
After carrying the soup pot to Mrs. Wilson’s house, we were met on her porch by the biggest blackest hairiest old dog you’re likely to see. “She must have a new pooch,” said Jake.
“Looks like trouble,” I said.
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