DISCLAIMER: I do not own Horton Hears a Who! and the characters, Trevedale, Stevel, and Derk are original characters created by Fan Fic user, OtterFrog.

The students sat scattered on the broad steps that led up to the entrance of a huge stone-white building. Blue vines braided around the pillars that held the roof and ivory statues that stood underneath the tall truffula trees that swayed in the wind. Before the students could go inside, they were to be split into two groups, each led by their chaperone, but because Ned had yet to arrive, no one was going anywhere.

Mr. Carp let out an airy sigh that joined the freezing wind.

"JoJo, where is your father?" he asked. "He should have been here by now."

"Seriously, JoJo," Iggy said. "We've got a lot of ground to cover and the Mayor is like, twenty minutes late."

Everywho looked at JoJo as if it were his fault.

JoJo rolled his eyes. He was used to this kind of thing with his dad always running late and driving everywho crazy. (The guy was late to his own wedding for Seuss's sake.) But one thing for sure, JoJo's dad always showed up no matter what, and JoJo couldn't decide if that were a good or bad thing for this particular situation.

"He's coming," JoJo answered.

Trevedel, sitting a step above JoJo, drew his foot rough against JoJo's back and started kicking him. "He'd better! Or-"

"Or what?"

Trevedel froze in place when he looked up and saw the Mayor standing on the sidewalk, looking right at him.

Stevel gasped. "Your Highness!"

JoJo could feel the corners of his mouth rising up for a second.

Mr. Carp quickly stole Ned's attention. "Mr. Mayor! I was beginning to think you weren't coming."

"I'm very sorry," Ned said. "I had to take care of a few things at City Hall."

"Can we just get into our groups and go inside already?" Mary Ann Whoolittle asked. "It's so cold out here."

Ned smiled at her sympathetically and then shot his fist up high in the air. "Let's get this party started!"

His butt jiggled as he led the students up the steps.

"Look it's the Giant Meatball," Sami Furbank whispered, pointing at Ned's shuffling behind.

The students held their stomachs in a failed attempt to surpress their giggles.

JoJo cringed as he pushed through the doors of the museum. Even when his dad isn't trying he's still super embarrassing.

After they were split into their groups, Ned found a floor plan of the museum. He skimmed through it for a while until he realized he'd been reading it upside down the whole time.

"Your Highness," Stevel said. "Can we go see the Giant Meatball first?"

"Slow down, kiddo," Ned said. "Before we see anything, I'd like to assemble you all into a straight line from shortest to tallest first."

The students all groaned and once again, everywho looked at JoJo as if it was his fault.

"Is it really necessary, Dad?" JoJo spoke up shyly. "We don't really have time. And Mr. Carp's group-"

Ned rested a reassuring palm on JoJo's shoulder. "It's just to keep you together that way no one will get lost," he said.

JoJo looked back at his classmates and shrugged. He wasn't about to argue with his dad. He didn't want to risk hurting his feelings.

Ned had been leading the group around the museum for forty-five minutes now.

On the second floor they saw skeletal preserves of some of the earliest animals to ever roam the face of the Speck. By the time they'd reached the third floor, they'd spent a little more than their fair share in a newly renovated exhibition dedicated to some of the greatest moments in mayoral whostory.

Ned had grown misty-eyed during the twenty-five minute rigmarole he'd given about his father, the Great Gail McDodd, and needed a moment.

Trevedel leaned in close to the other members of the Aint's and then lowered his voice. "It doesn't get any more lame than this."

"I know," Dirk said. "We'll never get to see the Giant Meatball with Wide Load as our tour guide."

"If we miss the Giant Meatball," Trevedale said. "He's going to pay!"

JoJo suddenly felt ashamed of his dad. People were scorning him left and right. But JoJo couldn't argue their frustration. His dad was single-handedly ruining everywho's time.

"JoJo, will you puh-lease ask your pops to take us to see the Giant Meatball now?" Stevel said. "We're running short on time."

JoJo rushed over to Ned and patted him on the hip like a child begging for candy in a check out line.

Ned was struggling with the floor plan again. "What is it, son?"

"We're ready to see the Giant Meatball now," JoJo said.

"Actually JoJo, I think it's about time we headed back to the ground floor," Ned said folding the now torn floor plan into his pocket. "By the time we get there, your teacher should be awaiting our arrival."

JoJo's chin started to tremble. He sent a disappointing it's-not-going-to-happen-today, look to his classmates who were desperately counting on him to turn the tables on this incredibly lame trip.

Ned pulled JoJo into a hug and rubbed a hand through JoJo's head of thick, black hair. "This was so much fun," he said. "I really love spending time with you."

JoJo drew back, his face in folds.

Ned smiled. "Sorry, I forgot we're in public. How embarrassing," he teased.

But JoJo didn't answer. Instead he took his place back in line.

"So are we seeing the Giant Meatball?" Stevel asked. "Or are we just going to have to just settle for kicking your butt?"

JoJo didn't answer. Instead he kept his head down low and tried to ignore the death looks his classmates flashed him.

That evening, JoJo sat in his room, quiet at his desk.

Mr. Carp's assigning whomework for the weekend certainly didn't make the day or JoJo's head (which barely dodged several paperwads, spitballs, and fists) feel better.

'Your assignment is to write a Thank You letter to the Mayor,' Mr. Carp said as the students loaded the bus back to school. 'Without him, this trip would have never happened.'

Maybe we would have been better off, JoJo wanted to say.

Mr. Carp continued. 'Your letters will be mailed to the City Hall P.O. box once they've been graded. JoJo, yours will be mailed to your house.'

The letters were due on Tuesday.

JoJo weighed his head, heavy with thinks, on an elbow as his notebook remained looked up at the picture of his dad dressed as Santa. That year, Ned had forced JoJo to dress up as an elf for their special father-son photo.

JoJo cringed at the thought of having to wear that oversized sweater that said "Santa's Little Helper" on the front of it. Even though the sweater was long gone (or secretly being used as a hanky by one of his little sisters) the humiliating memories were still there, in the scrapbooks of practically everywho in town-courtesy of the Mayor.

JoJo sighed. Why did his dad have to be so lame and embarrassing?

Having had enough of his thinks, JoJo decided to unleash them on paper. He picked up a pencil like he were drawing a sword and began writing:

My mom is relatively normal, but my dad is as LAME as it gets! What's worse is that he actually thinks he's so cool. He tells corny jokes, uses awful slang terms I've never even heard of.

I really hope I don't turn out looking like him and all the other Who men on his side of the family-shuffling around an oversized stump. These days he really does look like the Giant Meatball with arms and legs attached.

Why can't my dad be normal, like Mr. Nesbitt? Instead of always being so lame and embarrassing? Everywho at school makes fun of me because of him. I'd be so thankful if he'd just back off and leave me alone.

JoJo let his pencil breathe as he rummaged his brain for any more to write down. He sighed. Bashing his dad on paper only made him feel worse, not better. But maybe a nap would help.

"JoJo, dinner's ready," Ned called at JoJo's door.

There was no response. Ned assumed that JoJo might of had his earbuds in and didn't hear him.

He pushed the door open to be sure and instead found JoJo fast asleep at his desk. His back slowly rose up and down, following the sounds of gentle snoring.

Ned chuckled. "Well, I guess your mother was right. You really are nocturnal."

He rested a palm on JoJo's shoulder, but then caught sight of the notebook that was pressed underneath JoJo's head. Ned spotted the words "my dad, " and suddenly felt a sense of honor. He wondered what JoJo had written about him. After the blast they'd had today, Ned knew that things were about to change between him and JoJo.

He slid the notebook free and checked to see if JoJo was still sleeping. As Ned read JoJo's notebook entry, he suddenly didn't feel so good. When Ned had finished reading, he swallowed back a hard gulp of air and stepped out of JoJo's room, which now felt like a territory.

'I just wish he'd back off and leave me alone.'

Ned had probably read that line at least eight times. He swept a finger across the bridge his misty eyes. For a moment, he thought he could hear JoJo waking up, but Ned decided not to go back and check to make sure.

JoJo hadn't touched his dinner that evening. He was too full of nerves to eat even the tiniest bite of the three-cheese lasagna his mother made. Instead, he watched with narrowed eyes as his dad gabbered on with each of his sisters for their twelve second sessions. The bell's ring grew louder and louder as JoJo's chair drew closer to where Ned was sitting. By the time JoJo's chair faced his dad, Ned looked completely worn out.

"Hi, JoJo," Ned said. His voice sounded like a stream of water.

"Hi," JoJo breathed out.

He inwardly armed himself for another lame mayoral talk. After all the embarrassment he'd been through that day, JoJo didn't want to say anything to Ned.

He looked up at his dad for the first time that evening. Ned's normally bright blue eyes were a stormy grey color as he struggled to blink away the tears that beaded his lashes.

Is he about to apologize, JoJo wondered.

Ned stretched his arm across the table and cupped his hand over JoJo's hand. "Listen son, I just wanted to tell you that I...I sort of read what you had written about me in your notebook."

JoJo's heart quickened. He knew he could argue that it was wrong of his dad to invade his privacy. He could also argue that his dad deserved it for ruining his class trip. Or he could also apologize.

JoJo opened his mouth to say something but no words came out.

"You don't know how bad it hurt me to read those words," Ned continued.

By now, everywho's attention was on the two of them. Sally was watching the whole time, holding her fork of lasagna to her mouth in mid-air.

"As a father, I only want to make my children happy. And if you are this unhappy with me than I'm failing as a father..."

"Honey," Sally broke in. Ned held up his hand as if to tell her it was okay.

"I promise from now on I'll try not to be such a lame dad and give you the space you need," Ned said.

He then excused himself from the table.

"JoJo, what did the notebook say?" asked Holly, who was sitting right next to him.

JoJo shook his head.

"I've never seen Daddy cry before," Henna whispered to Hoola.

"That's enough, girls," Sally said. "Go wash your dish and get ready for bed. I'll be upstairs to tuck you in later."

Heaven pouted. "But what about Daddy? That's his job."

Sally looked at JoJo. "Daddy needs his rest tonight."

"Thanks a lot, JoJo!" Heather threw a used napkin at JoJo's head. JoJo didn't bother to try to dodge it.