Fudge-a-Mania

I was about to drop a light one on his forehead when he reached up, grabbed me around the neck and pulled me down. Then he planted a big, wet smackeroo right in the middle of my face. “Sweet dreams, Pete!

I shoved back my chair and raced around the table, ready to destroy him. “Grandma . . .” Fudge cried. “Heeelp . . . !

That night after supper, Jimmy and I used up a whole jar of Noxzema. We had sunburned faces, necks and ears. Our ears hurt more than anything. “Why didn’t you use suntan lotion?” Mom asked. “I never burn,” Jimmy said. “Famous last words,” Grandma said.

Nothing like having a miser in the family.

my father. “Oh, it’s so quaint,” she said. “Isn’t it quaint,

Thith ith too nautheating for wordth!” Libby said, grabbing Jake and running back into the house.

The next day, when I got up, Fudge’s bed was empty. He doesn’t know you’re supposed to sleep late when