9. Welcome to the Dirty Clothes Basket

Chapter 9 Welcome to the Dirty Clothes Basket All day long my tummy felt throw-uppy. Like it does when we go on a family trip. And there are twisty roads. I hardly ever actually throw up. But I make the other people in the car pretty nervous. When Max and me got off the bus, Mom was in the yard with Hazel. "How was school, Max?" Mom asked. "Okay," he said.

"How was school, Roscoe?" Mom asked. "Okay," I said. "What did you do today?" Mom asked. "Nothing," Max said. "I did nothing too, Mommy," said Hazel, who just goes to preschool half a day. "What did you do, Roscoe?" asked Mom. "Nothing," I said. Because that's what you always say. Except secretly I was thinking, Nothing, unless you count bear-napping. Which is what I did during lunch when no one was looking. I had grabbed that old bear out of Wyatt's backpack and stuck him into mine. I took off my backpack. I'd left the zipper open halfway.

One little black eye was staring at me. One little black, mad, sad eye. Just then, I remembered about the party. "Ms. Diz is making us have a stuffed animal party the day after tomorrow. So we can see that animals aren't just for loser babies," I said. "Maybe you could bring Geraldo," Mom said. "I thought about that," I said. "But if Hamilton can't come, then I'm not bringing anybody else. If he found out, it would hurt his feelings." I took my backpack to my room.

Bobo looked all squished. Plus he had some peanut butter on his right paw. "I'm really sorry about this, Bobo," I said. "It's only for a little while." I sat on my bed. Bobo leaned on my pillow. He was not smiling at all. He looked sort of down in the dumps. "See, your owner took my pig," I said to Bobo. "At least, I'm pretty sure he did. And so if I take you, then Wyatt will see how I feel and then he'll give Hamilton back and then I'll give you back." I tucked Bobo under the covers. All of a sudden I thought of Mom tucking me in. She would see Bobo. And she would ask me where he came from.

"Roscoe," she would say, "I don't believe I've met this guy." I would have to admit I was a bear-napper. And I was almost positive for sure that Mom would not approve. I pulled Bobo out of bed. I searched around my room for a good hiding place. I put Bobo in my dirty clothes basket. All kinds of things like to hide in there. Right under my very muddy jeans. Hazel and I were playing dinosaur digger-upper that day. Bobo peeked one sad eye out from under my jeans. Plus his one ear.

He was lonely. I could tell. It was hard to figure how he could miss that mean old Wyatt. I got my armadillo, Geraldo. He was napping under my bed. "Bobo," I said, "allow me to introduce Geraldo." I tucked Geraldo in next to Bobo. I closed my closet door. At least Bobo would have some company tonight. Unlike me and Wyatt.