Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9 I took Stanley out of his grocery bag and held him up for all the audience to see. "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls of all ages," I said. "I would like you to meet my robot, the super-duper sock-picker-upper. He's named Stanley, after my father." I looked at my parents, who were sitting in the audience. I was so glad that my mom could get away from work. And my dad had such a proud smile on his face. I saw him give my mom a nudge with his elbow. She gave him a pat on the shoulder.

"How many people here are told every day to pick up their socks and put them in the hamper?" I asked, raising my own hand. Lots of other kids raised their hands, too. Even a few of the parents chuckled and raised their hands. "We all know that picking up socks is annoying," I said, "but I, Hank Zipzer, have the solution." I reached in the bag and pulled out two socks. They didn't match, even though I was positive I had put a matching pair in there. I placed the socks on the floor as if nothing was wrong. Then I put one of our wooden salad bowls nearby. "Watch and be amazed," I told the audience. "You will see Stanley pick up the

socks and drop them in the salad bowl, which is playing the part of a hamper. Take a bow, Mr. Salad Bowl." The audience laughed. This is going well. Taking the remote control, I pressed the forward button and waited for Stanley to roll across the stage to the socks. He did just the opposite. He rolled away from the socks, and when I say away, I mean far away. Correction. This is not going so well. "You can't tell forward from backward, Zipper Teeth," McKelty shouted. "Looks like

your robot's got the same problem." I looked down at the remote control. I had pressed the forward button. Why wasn't Stanley listening? "Seems like my little robot has a mind of his own," I said to the audience. I was smiling on the outside, but shaking on the inside. "Let's try again, okay, Stanley?" I pushed the forward button all the way down with my thumb. Stanley lurched backward again, this time at full speed. He was going so fast, he rolled right up onto Principal Love's sneakers and only stopped when his wheels got tangled up in Principal Love's shoelaces. You could hear Stanley's motor whirring, but he wasn't going anywhere.

Everyone was laughing at me, especially Nick McKelty. "Nice move, loser," he called out. I wasn't going to let him get away with that, so I said the first thing that came to my mind. "Stanley," I said. "You're supposed to pick socks up off the floor, not pull them off Principal Love's feet!" The audience laughed again, but this time they were laughing with me.

"Don't move, Principal Love," I said. "I've got this under control." I went over to him, knelt down, and lifted Stanley off his sneakers. Well, I pulled most of him off. My sister's polka-dot spoon in the shape of a kitten stayed behind in the shoelaces. Poor Stanley was now officially missing an arm. "Looks like your so-called robot is a total flop," McKelty called out. "Mr. McKelty, if I have to remind you one more time, I will have to ask you to leave this assembly," Principal Love said. "We don't make fun of others here." I just stood there holding Stanley. I was frozen. Stanley had worked so well on our dining-room table. I couldn't figure out what was