The next day at school, Skippy was unusually quiet and attentive. He wasn't reading, writing, or drawing at all. Ms. Stevens noticed, and had a pretty good guess why, but she didn't ask him many questions. Skippy was glad that she didn't put the spotlight on him, but was still dreading the conference that he wouldn't attend.
When school got over at 3:20, Slappy was already there. It was a strange contrast; her and all of the young kids racing out of school. (I would have called her old but she has me tied up to a chair writing this and would blow me up with her explosives if I dared hint at that type of thing.)
(Ouch.)
Skippy trudged out of school, feeling as though he had just been sentenced to life in prison. (It's hard to type with burnt, blackened fingers. Please excuse any errors.) He didn't even notice Slappy until he ran right into her.
"Watch where yer goin'," said Slappy.
"Oops…" mumbled Skippy. He paused for a moment, then finally said, meekly, "I need the key."
Slappy rummaged through her purse and pulled it out. "Here ya go," she said. Then she turned and headed towards the school.
"Aunt Slappy?"
She turned around. "What is it?"
Skippy took a deep breath and sighed. "I'm sorry."
To Skippy's surprise, Slappy didn't say anything sarcastic. In fact, she didn't say anything. She simply patted him on the head affectionately and smiled, then went into the school.
Skippy sighed to himself. "Guess I'd better go home," he thought. He climbed up a tree and walked home. He didn't scamper, the way a squirrel usually would. He just slowly ambled his way back home.
Once he got inside, he collapsed in a chair. "Now whadda I do?" he said to himself. He knew that he wouldn't possibly be able to concentrate on comic books, not at this time.
He got up and went downstairs. He had never gone downstairs before, and now seemed like a pretty good time to investigate.
Skippy looked around and saw a small door.
"That must be the vault," he said quietly. Then he laughed. "Some vault that is! It doesn't even have a lock!" He opened the door and stepped inside.
The room was packed with explosives! Skippy had never seen that many in his life! Then again, he had never seen ANY explosives in his life, which made him even more amazed than one with previous exposure would have been.
His eyes suddenly darted to the ceiling, then scanned back and forth, checking for security cameras or anything else that Slappy might have put in there. Seeing none, he grabbed a bomb and put it in his pocket.
Now don't think that he was going to blow up his school or anything. These were before those things happened that often, and besides, he was a six-year-old boy, the nephew of the Queen of TNT. He just wanted to have it, and, as you will see later in the story, his decision to carry explosives was a wise one.
He took about 5 bombs for himself, then, with sudden realization of what he was doing, he ran out of the vault, slammed the door, raced to his room, and opened a book, hoping to get his mind off of what he had just done.
"Let's get right to the point, Miss Squirrel. Skippy isn't doing his homework, and he also rarely pays attention in class. He's either reading a comic book or drawing."
Slappy scratched her chin thoughtfully. "Then, I'd hafta say that he'd better not bring his comic books ta school."
Ms. Stevens nodded. "But that's only half the problem. What does he do all day at home?"
"He stays up in his room and… reads comic books. But don't ya think there's an easier way than ta take all of his books away?"
"Of course," said Ms. Stevens. "Remember, I'm an experienced teacher, and I've dealt with this problem before. Every day, I will write out an agenda of all Skippy's homework. After school, I will give it to him and have him mark off the ones he has done. When he gets home, you ask to see his agenda, and if he still has work left to do, you have him do it right away."
Slappy nodded. "Sounds good to me."
"Skippy is a very intelligent child. I only hope that this can work out for all three of us."
"All three of us," snorted Slappy. "The question is, did it work out fer me to take him in?"
"I sincerely think so," said Ms. Stevens. "Skippy is a very happy, if somewhat distracted, child."
"Distracted?"
"He has a short attention span."
"Oh," said Slappy. "Well, see ya."
"Good bye, and thanks for coming,"
On the walk home, Slappy couldn't help but sigh. She had thought that she wouldn't really care that much about his grades or anything silly like that. She had been more like, "Alright, I'll take my dead sister's child in, a sister who I didn't even know I had, much less my nephew." She hadn't even thought it was possible that she would feel any motherly affection for him. But…
Adopting him was not what she had expected, she finally decided.
When school got over at 3:20, Slappy was already there. It was a strange contrast; her and all of the young kids racing out of school. (I would have called her old but she has me tied up to a chair writing this and would blow me up with her explosives if I dared hint at that type of thing.)
(Ouch.)
Skippy trudged out of school, feeling as though he had just been sentenced to life in prison. (It's hard to type with burnt, blackened fingers. Please excuse any errors.) He didn't even notice Slappy until he ran right into her.
"Watch where yer goin'," said Slappy.
"Oops…" mumbled Skippy. He paused for a moment, then finally said, meekly, "I need the key."
Slappy rummaged through her purse and pulled it out. "Here ya go," she said. Then she turned and headed towards the school.
"Aunt Slappy?"
She turned around. "What is it?"
Skippy took a deep breath and sighed. "I'm sorry."
To Skippy's surprise, Slappy didn't say anything sarcastic. In fact, she didn't say anything. She simply patted him on the head affectionately and smiled, then went into the school.
Skippy sighed to himself. "Guess I'd better go home," he thought. He climbed up a tree and walked home. He didn't scamper, the way a squirrel usually would. He just slowly ambled his way back home.
Once he got inside, he collapsed in a chair. "Now whadda I do?" he said to himself. He knew that he wouldn't possibly be able to concentrate on comic books, not at this time.
He got up and went downstairs. He had never gone downstairs before, and now seemed like a pretty good time to investigate.
Skippy looked around and saw a small door.
"That must be the vault," he said quietly. Then he laughed. "Some vault that is! It doesn't even have a lock!" He opened the door and stepped inside.
The room was packed with explosives! Skippy had never seen that many in his life! Then again, he had never seen ANY explosives in his life, which made him even more amazed than one with previous exposure would have been.
His eyes suddenly darted to the ceiling, then scanned back and forth, checking for security cameras or anything else that Slappy might have put in there. Seeing none, he grabbed a bomb and put it in his pocket.
Now don't think that he was going to blow up his school or anything. These were before those things happened that often, and besides, he was a six-year-old boy, the nephew of the Queen of TNT. He just wanted to have it, and, as you will see later in the story, his decision to carry explosives was a wise one.
He took about 5 bombs for himself, then, with sudden realization of what he was doing, he ran out of the vault, slammed the door, raced to his room, and opened a book, hoping to get his mind off of what he had just done.
"Let's get right to the point, Miss Squirrel. Skippy isn't doing his homework, and he also rarely pays attention in class. He's either reading a comic book or drawing."
Slappy scratched her chin thoughtfully. "Then, I'd hafta say that he'd better not bring his comic books ta school."
Ms. Stevens nodded. "But that's only half the problem. What does he do all day at home?"
"He stays up in his room and… reads comic books. But don't ya think there's an easier way than ta take all of his books away?"
"Of course," said Ms. Stevens. "Remember, I'm an experienced teacher, and I've dealt with this problem before. Every day, I will write out an agenda of all Skippy's homework. After school, I will give it to him and have him mark off the ones he has done. When he gets home, you ask to see his agenda, and if he still has work left to do, you have him do it right away."
Slappy nodded. "Sounds good to me."
"Skippy is a very intelligent child. I only hope that this can work out for all three of us."
"All three of us," snorted Slappy. "The question is, did it work out fer me to take him in?"
"I sincerely think so," said Ms. Stevens. "Skippy is a very happy, if somewhat distracted, child."
"Distracted?"
"He has a short attention span."
"Oh," said Slappy. "Well, see ya."
"Good bye, and thanks for coming,"
On the walk home, Slappy couldn't help but sigh. She had thought that she wouldn't really care that much about his grades or anything silly like that. She had been more like, "Alright, I'll take my dead sister's child in, a sister who I didn't even know I had, much less my nephew." She hadn't even thought it was possible that she would feel any motherly affection for him. But…
Adopting him was not what she had expected, she finally decided.
