That’s it. You’re toast!
That’s it. You’re toast!
The egg’s poem about a wasp with a dreadful wig was very long. And it repeated a lot. And the egg spoke in a sing-song voice that made even normal sentences sound like nonsense. So, it was probably not surprising that Isaac dozed off at some point. The egg, however, found it inexcusable.
“You didn’t even clap at the end,” the egg shouted. “You just snored.”
“I’m sorry. It was just such a long poem.” Isaac smiled apologetically.
The egg frowned. “You promised to clap.”
“Would it help if I clapped now?” Isaac asked.
“You already tried that,” the egg said sulkily. “It doesn’t count if it’s not right at the end. If you clap late, you might be clapping about anything after all.”
“But isn’t late better than not at all? And twice better than once?”
“If the first slice of cake isn’t any good, is the second going to be welcome?” the egg’s crayon face looked angry.
Isaac shrugged. “Perhaps I should just leave. I can look around for a bit on my own.”
The egg looked angrier. “This is my island. I say whether or not you can look around. And I say you are too rude to stay here a minute longer. Leave now and don’t touch or look at anything at all.”
Isaac laughed nervously. “But that’s impossible. I have to touch the ground to walk, and I’ll get lost if I can’t look around, and then I’ll stay here even longer.”
“Well, stop touching the ground right this moment. I mean it.” The egg was shaking with anger.
“I can’t,” Isaac said. “I don’t know how. I’m sorry.” The egg shook even harder. Isaac was alarmed. “Please stop shaking like that! You’re going to fall off the wall.”
“You can’t tell me what to do on my island!” The egg was swaying dangerously now.
Isaac, alarmed, tried to speak in a calm, soothing voice. “You’re right. My mistake. It’s just that…”
“Your mistake? I told you everything on thing on this island is mine!” The egg bounced once, twice, and then fell from the wall. It landed with a loud crunching sound that echoed strangely.
Isaac rushed to the egg, which was cracked right through its crayon-drawn face. He wasn’t sure what to do, and his hands fluttered uselessly over the large egg that, up close, was almost as tall as he was.
His mind raced. Was there anyway to fix the egg? If only he’d managed to find the party sooner, then maybe he’d be the king of doctors. But can doctors repair eggs? And there were no guarantees he become a doctor. He might end up as the king of horses, and horses didn’t even have hands. There was no way they could fix broken eggs.
The egg was still making small cracking sounds. Isaac leaned forward, worried that it was about to collapse in on itself. He still had no idea what he could do to help. “Are you okay?” He asked.
There was no answer. The egg continued to make little cracking sounds. The crack across the face grew wider, and suddenly a scaly green face popped through, right in the middle of the egg’s old face.
Isaac jumped back in surprise. “Who are you? What just happened?”
“I’m the same person I always was,” the green thing said. “And you’re still on my island.”
“But I thought that it was the egg’s island… Oh.” Of course. It had hatched.
The green thing snorted and smoke trickled out of its nostrils. It climbed out of the remains of the egg shell, crunching it under its large taloned feet. A long tail whipped back and forth behind it.
It climbed up on the low wall and stretched out its massive wings. It was a dragon.
“Grandpa, look at the book I checked out from the library,” Jim said. He held up a book with a picture of the solar system on the front.
Grandpa took the book as he sat down on the couch next to Jim. “The planets?” He opened the book and flipped through the pages.
Jim leaned over and turned the pages to show a picture of the earth with a wedge removed. “See, the earth has layers, like a jawbreaker. Inside the center, there’s liquid and solid metal. Neat, huh?”
“Of course there is,” Grandpa said. “That’s what baby space phoenixes look like.”
“Huh?” Jim looked at the diagram again. “Space phoenixes?”
Neil, who had been adding a mustache to a picture of a panda in Carrie’s coloring book, dropped his pen and grinned. “Is this a grandpa story? We should get Lynn. She’ll want to hear it.” Read More
“Mom,” Gracie said. “Mom? Mom. MOM.”
“I’m in the kitchen,” Mom said.
“Mooooooooom,” Gracie said as she hurried down the hall.
“Gracie, what’s wrong?” Mom asked. She turned off the faucet and dried her hands.
“My super amazing beautiful glittery rainbow rock is missing!” Gracie said. “It’s gone!” Read More