Chapter 5

Chapter five, The next Thursday, report cards came out. My grandpa, Papa Pete, was picking me up at school that day. I came running out the front door, waving the sealed brown envelope in my hands. "What you got there?" Papa Pete asked, giving me one of his great big bear hugs. "My report card," I answered. "Let's hurry home so I can show it to Dad." "Sounds like you're expecting some good grades," Papa Pete said. "Getting a dog really has motivated you. I'm proud of you, Hankie." Usually Papa Pete and I stop at my mom's deli, the Crunchy Pickle, for an after-school snack. But that day, I wanted to get right home.

The minute I set foot in our apartment, I handed the envelope to my dad. "How did I do?" I asked him before he had even finished opening it. "Are the words 'much improved' going to come flying out of your mouth?" He put his glasses on and looked over my report card for what seemed to be forever. "In a few subjects, there was slight improvement," he said at last. "In science, there was a lot of improvement." I started jumping up and down. "Cool! When can we go look at puppies?" I was so happy I was practically shouting. "However...," he went on. I hate that word, however. Nothing good ever comes after it. "However, Hank, in some important subjects, such as reading and math, your grades have actually slipped." Papa Pete put his hand on my dad's shoulder. "You know, Stan," he said, smiling that

great smile of his. "I spent my life running the Crunchy Pickle. My sandwiches made a lot of people happy. And the truth is, I had a hard time with math, too. You learn to figure out what you're good at. Then you go full-steam in that direction." "So what are you suggesting, Pete?" my dad said. "That I just let Hank be lazy and get any grade he wants?" "He's not lazy," Papa Pete said. "Let him prove it to you by showing he can take care of a dog." "Yeah!" I exclaimed. "Dad, I promise you. I will be the best dog-taker-care-of person in the whole entire solar system." My dad just sat there, scratching his head.

"I have to discuss this with your mother," he said. "Great, I can hear her in the kitchen," I said. "Let's go ask her." "You stay here, Hank. This is an adult decision." "Then you can't leave out Papa Pete," I said, knowing he would take my side. "He's an adult."

"Have been for quite some time now," Papa Pete said. Papa Pete winked at me as he followed my dad into the kitchen. As for me, all I could do was put my ear against the kitchen door and try to hear what they were saying. I couldn't hear a word.

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