Chapter 10

Chapter ten The good news was, I didn't have to shovel up monkey poop. The bad news was, I actually got all of the other punishments, plus some I had never thought of. First of all, I had to sit next to Nick McKelty on the bus ride back to school. His armpits were especially stinky after spending the day at the zoo. My poor nose got so tired from trying to block the smell that I was going to have to put it to bed early. Second, when Ms. Flowers told my parents what I had done, I got grounded. My dad said for the next two weeks, I could eat, breathe, and go to school. And that was it.

Third, all of my screen time was taken away for two weeks. That meant no computer, no video games, and I couldn't even use my mom's phone to play a math game she had downloaded for me. When I tried to tell my dad that math was good for me, he said, "Use a pencil and paper instead." Then he put a whole sheet of subtraction problems in front of me. Was he kidding? I couldn't even do them behind me. The hardest part of the punishment was writing the three-paragraph report on my experience at the zoo. For me, writing even one sentence is hard. Writing a paragraph is very, very hard. Writing three paragraphs is as close to impossible as a person can get. After dinner that night, my dad set me up at the desk in my room. He gave me strict instructions.

"Don't come out of your room until you've written the three paragraphs," he said. "But Dad," I answered. "This isn't fair. My brain is already cream cheese from working on those subtraction problems. Besides, I'm not a good paragraph writer." "You should have thought of that before you wandered away, Hank. Now get to work. I want you in bed with the lights out at eight- thirty. And remember, don't get up from your desk until you finish the assignment." As soon as my dad left the room, the first thing I did was get up from my desk. I had to.

My left leg was bouncing up and down like it had a motor in it. Or maybe it was my right leg. I have a hard time knowing my left from my right. But no matter what leg it was, I had to take it for a walk around my room. I meant to go right back to my desk, but I made a little stop at my dresser and opened the drawer. The next thing I knew, I was looking through my collection of baseball cards. I don't know how they got out of order, but the Mets were all mixed together with the Yankees. I knew those cards wouldn't be happy until I separated them, because those two teams don't get along at all. I took the cards out of my drawer and put them down on the carpet. I was busy sorting them into two piles when the door opened and my mom stuck her head in.

"That doesn't look like writing to me," she said, coming in and closing the door behind her. "You always say I have to get organized," I answered. "Well, look. I'm organizing." "This is not going to help you get your report done," she pointed out. "You should be organizing your thoughts, not your baseball cards." That was easy for her to say. When I tell my brain to organize my thoughts, it doesn't listen. It just thinks about whatever it wants to think about. And at that moment, it was thinking about baseball cards.

"Hank," my mom said. "This assignment shouldn't be hard for you. You know a lot about elephants. You've watched so many shows about them on television. Just combine what you already know with what you remember about your field trip. You'll be done in no time." My mom helped me clean up the baseball cards and put them back in the drawer. "The Yankees and the Mets are going to have to learn to get along on their own," I told her. She laughed, but then put her hand on my shoulder like she does when she gets serious. "Get to work, honey. Once your report is done, you'll feel so much better." She left and I sat down at my desk, for real this time. I was determined to write my three paragraphs. I picked up one of the pencils and wrote my name at the top of the paper. Wow, that was a good start.