Uh-oh.
“Oh, well,” said Sam. “I guess it could be worse.”
I did not see how.
Sam led me into the living room. My big-house family was there. So was a tall man wearing a suit. Right away, I saw that he was the only one wearing a suit. Daddy was in his old Saturday outfit. Charlie’s clothes looked as bad as Sam’s. Andrew was still wearing his pajamas. Emily was wearing a saggy diaper and a T-shirt.
I did not look so hot myself.
Even so, I said to the man, “Hi. I am Karen Brewer. And this is my beautiful family.”
The Biggest Mess
“Nice to meet you, Karen,” the judge replied. “My name is Joseph Sand.”
I put on my very best manners. Even if I did not look nice, I could act nice. “Allow me to introduce you,” I said to Mr. Sand.
I dragged Nannie over to him. I chose Nannie first, because at least she was wearing a dress. “Mr. Sand, this is my stepgrandmother. I call her Nannie. We all do.”
Nannie stuck out her right hand. “Sorry it is wet,” she said. “I was doing the dishes. The ones from last week. Oh, well. Better late than never, I guess. Next week I will wash this week’s dishes.”
I wondered if I looked as horrified as Mr. Sand did.
Probably, I decided. But I introduced the rest of my family. Daddy’s hands were covered with grease. He did not even wipe them on his pants before he shook hands with Mr. Sand. Andrew would not shake Mr. Sand’s hand at all. Emily cried. Sam burped. He did not say, “Excuse me.” He just laughed.
I had to do something fast.
“Mr. Sand, may I show you around our house and yard?” I asked.
I was not sure that was such a great idea. But it had to be better than standing around with my piggy family.
Guess what. My family followed us around. They came along on the tour of the house and yard. Even though it was really the judge’s tour.
I led the judge upstairs. On the way, I thought about which room to show off first. Not my own. I had not finished cleaning it up. I decided on Andrew’s. He had cleaned his up. Plus, he is pretty neat anyway.
“Mr. Sand, this is my brother Andrew’s beautiful room.” I showed him inside. “Yipes!” I cried. “Oh, my goodness!”
Andrew’s room was not neat. In fact, I could hardly walk through it. The floor was covered with Legos and Lincoln Logs and Tinker Toys. Since Andrew was right behind me, I cried, “What happened?”
“My building fell down,” he answered.
“Let’s look at another room, Mr. Sand,” I suggested.
We peeked into Sam’s. The room looked like a laundry had exploded in it. Clothes were everywhere. They were even draped over his lamps.
“No need to see that after all,” I said quickly. “Let’s try a bathroom.”
Emily Michelle had been finger-painting in the bathroom. The tub and the tiles were red and blue and yellow.
Emily leaned into the bathroom. “I do that!” she exclaimed.
“You are supposed to clean up your messes!” I snapped.
Emily burst into tears. “Go away!” she cried.
Good idea.
“Mr. Sand, allow me to show you the yard,” I said.
The judge and I stood on the back porch. We looked across the lawn. “My daddy planted those gardens,” I said, pointing. “There is his flower garden, and there is his herb garden.”
“What is that?” asked Mr. Sand. He was pointing at something else.
It was Boo-Boo. And he had caught a bird. He was trotting through the grass with the bird hanging out of his mouth. Oh, gross.
“Boo-Boo!” I shrieked.
Boo-Boo dropped the bird. He ran away.
I glanced at Mr. Sand. Mr. Sand was not smiling. He was frowning. I thought about showing him our toolshed. I decided not to.
I knew I would never see the shores of Hawaii.
The Pig Family
I brought Mr. Sand back inside. We were standing in the kitchen.
“Would you like to stay for lunch?” Elizabeth asked the judge. She sounded very polite. But her hair was piled on her head in rollers. Also, she had said she was cold, but instead of a sweater, she had slipped her bathrobe over her jeans and shirt.
I was sure Mr. Sand would say no, he did not want to stay.
But before he could answer, Elizabeth took him by the shoulders and sat him on one of the benches at our kitchen table. “Of course you must stay,” she said. “Our house is yours. Make yourself at home.”
“Elizabeth,” I whispered, “shouldn’t we eat in the dining room? The kitchen is sort of messy.” (It was a wreck.)
“Honey, Mr. Sand does not mind.”
“But I — ” I started to say.
Too late. My family was sliding into their places at the table.
“What can I get you, Mr. Sand?” asked Daddy. “How about leftovers? That is what I am going to have. Nice leftover hash and nice leftover apple pie and nice leftover baloney.”
“Daddy, I think the baloney is moldy,” I said.
“Oh, well, Mr. Sand can just scrape off the green places, can’t you?”
“I suppose so,” answered the judge. He looked green himself.
“Hey, there’s Boo-Boo!” said David Michael.
“Boo-Boo, perfect timing,” said Nannie. “I think he wants his lunch. He missed out on his bird.” Nannie opened one of those cans of smelly cat food. She dumped it into a dish. And Boo-Boo jumped onto the table. He landed practically on Mr. Sand’s plate. “You really are hungry,” Nannie said to Boo-Boo. And she let Boo-Boo eat on the table.
“I hungry!” announced Emily. She blew a raspberry.
“Me, too,” said Sam. Then he bu-u-u-urped.
“You know what I want for lunch?” said Kristy. “I want … great big globs of greasy grimy gopher’s guts!”
David Michael joined in. “Little birdies’ dirty feet! Mutilated monkey’s meat. Great big globs of greasy grimy gopher’s guts!” he sang.
“And me without a spoon!” Charlie finished the song.
“Here you go, Mr. Sand.” Daddy set a plate in front of the judge. On it were three pieces of moldy baloney and a knife. “You know what the knife is for, don’t you?” He winked.
I turned to Kristy, who was sitting next to me. “Pinch me,” I said.
“Why?”
“Because I must be dreaming. This is a nightmare.”
When lunch was almost over, I said, “I guess we do not have any dessert for Mr. Sand, do we?”
“Why, Karen, of course we do,” said Nannie. “We know how to treat a guest.” Nannie opened a cupboard door. She pulled out a cake tin. She lifted the lid. “Tadah!” she cried.
On our cake plate sat something that looked sort of like a cake, but not really. It was lopsided. The top slanted down. It was covered with runny yellow icing. Nannie had decorated it, too. But the decorations were sliding down the sides of the cake.
“I hope you like peanut butter-lemon-fudge-butterscotch with raisins,” said Nannie. She cut a slice of cake. Before she could serve it to Mr. Sand, though, it fell on the floor. “Oops!” cried Nannie. She picked it up, put it back on the plate, and handed it to Mr. Sand. “A little dirt never hurt anyone,” she added.
I know my face turned red then. I was a member of a pig family. And I had lost my chance to go to Hawaii.
April Fool!
“Coffee, Mr. Sand?” asked Charlie. “Maybe that will help wash down the cake.” (Mr. Sand had not tasted his slice of floor cake yet.)
“Coffee would be lovely,” said Mr. Sand.
“Okay. The coffee-maker is on the counter. I’m sure you know how to use it. If we run out of coffee grounds, just add a little dirt from the garden. That is what we always do.”
All right. I had had enough. “Charlie!” I cried. “That is so rude! Mr. Sand is a guest! And a judge.”
“Are you sure, Karen?” asked Charlie.
“Of course I am. I know a judge when I see one.?
??
My big-house family was quiet for a moment. Then they yelled, “April Fool!” (Emily yelled, “Apra Foo!”)
“April Fool?” I repeated.
“Yeah, we really got you!” cried David Michael.
“Honey, Mr. Sand is not a judge from the Beautiful Family contest. He is a friend of mine. We work together,” said Elizabeth.
“You mean this was a joke?” I asked. I smiled. Then I laughed. “I do not believe it!” The rest of my family was laughing, too. Then I thought of something. “But I started the joke,” I said. “How come you are finishing it? How did you find out about my joke?”
“We almost didn’t find out,” said Kristy. “We did not find out until this morning. Sam answered the phone when Hannie called. He answered in the kitchen. You answered upstairs at the same time. And Sam sort of listened in. So he knew no judge was coming over.”
“Yeah,” said Sam. “Sorry for listening to your conversation, but I am glad I did. I told everyone else what you were doing. Then, while you were at Hannie’s, we messed up the house. I know you think we are piggy sometimes. It was easy to fool you.”
“You guys!” I cried.
“Well,” said Daddy. “We better get to work. We have a big clean-up to do. Everyone clean up the mess you made. Karen, you help Emily.”
Cleaning up was not easy. My family had made so many messes. But when we had finished, the house looked great.
“I bet we really could win a Beautiful Family contest now,” I said. Then I looked at my watch. The afternoon was nearly over. I was running out of time to play April Fool’s Day tricks.
I sat at the kitchen table. I picked up the phone. I dialed a number. When someone answered, I said, “Hello, this is Brewer Repair Service. Is your refrigerator running? … It is? Then you better catch it!”
“Who is this?” asked my friend.
“It is Karen Brewer. April Fool! Hi, Gemma!”
“Karen? That was a good trick,” said Gemma.
“Thank you. Wait until you hear the trick my family played on me today.” I told Gemma about Mr. Sand and the moldy baloney and everything. I thought she would like the story. She did.
I was glad to have a new friend.
We had just hung up the phone when it rang again.
“Hello, Brewer and Thomas residence,” I said.
“Hello. I am taking a survey. Is your refrigerator running?”
“Yes, it is,” I replied. “So I better go catch it … Bobby!”
“Aw, darn,” said Bobby Gianelli. “I still did not get you.”
“And maybe you never will. Happy April Fools’ Day, Bobby!”
“Happy April Fools’ Day.”
About the Author
ANN M. MARTIN is the acclaimed and bestselling author of a number of novels and series, including Belle Teal, A Corner of the Universe (a Newbery Honor book), A Dog’s Life, Here Today, P.S. Longer Letter Later (written with Paula Danziger), the Family Tree series, the Doll People series (written with Laura Godwin), the Main Street series, and the generation-defining series The Baby-sitters Club. She lives in New York.
Copyright © 1992 by Ann M. Martin
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, BABY-SITTERS LITTLE SISTER, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
First edition, 1992
e-ISBN 978-1-338-05616-7
Ann M. Martin, Karen's Big Joke
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends