3 SUNDAY MAIL

CHAPTER 3 SUNDAY MAIL Peeeee-yew!" said Alexander's dad. "What's that dog-awful smell?" Alexander had just walked into the kitchen. He sniffed his shirt. "Um, funky cheese?" said Alexander. "Why don't you go take a bath and un-funky yourself while I finish dinner," said his dad. Alexander tromped upstairs. Fifteen minutes later, he tromped back down, in pajamas. "Ah! Squeaky clean!" his dad said. "And here's your bathrobe fresh from the dryer!"

"Thanks, Dad," said Alexander, slipping into the robe. It felt soft and warm, but smelled flowery. "My robe smells like a rose garden." "I may have overdone it on the fabric softener," said his dad. "But it beats stinky cheese!" "Speaking of cheese let's eat!" said Alexander, taking a seat. His dad scooped lasagna onto Alexander's plate. "Oh, you got mail today," he said. "On a Sunday?" asked Alexander. "Yeah," said his dad. "It must have been hand- delivered." He handed Alexander an envelope. Alexander frowned as he opened it.

Alexander: Your teacher, Dr. Tallow, no longer works at Stermont Elementary. That's no surprise! As Alexander chewed his lasagna, he thought of Dr. Tallow melting into a goop-blob, attacking the S.S.M.P., and then hardening into a spiky statue. Therefore, her students have been moved into other classrooms. You, Alexander, will now report to my office on the thirteenth floor for one-on-one lessons. Until tomorrow, Principal Vanderpants Alexander dropped his fork. "You are so lucky, AI!" said Alexander's dad, reading over his shoulder. "Just think private lessons with your principal." Class without my friends?! thought Alexander. I'd rather be trampled by a caboose-crasher!