Never Race a Runaway Pumpkin Read Free

take her home, please?” Hazel begged. “Pleasepleasepleaseplease?”
    â€œI’m not sure if Goofy would like that idea,” said Mom.
    Goofy is our big white silly dog.
    I do not actually know what his opinion is on cats.
    â€œBut Mom, she’s so fuzzy and cute!” Hazel cried.
    â€œI’ll think about it,” Mom said.
    Hazel kissed the kitty’s face.
    â€œHazel,” I warned, “you’re going to have bad-luck germs all over you.”
    â€œIt’s time for us to go, Roscoe,” said Mom. “Did you make your guess about the pumpkin’s weight?”
    The kitten made a little squeaky mew sound.
    â€œWhat was that? ” I demanded.
    â€œShe’s putting a curse on you,” Max said. But he said it too quietly for Mom to hear him.
    I grabbed Mom’s arm. “Mom, I really think we should get out of here,” I said.
    I didn’t care about the books for the school anymore.
    Or even the candy for my stomach.
    Not with that bad-luck kitty around.

8
Guesstimating
    The next day at school, we learned more about weighing things.
    We learned about Greater Than and Less Than.
    We learned that a little pumpkin’s weight is greater than a quarter.
    We even learned that a medium pumpkin weighs less than Ms. Diz.
    The more I thought about weighing stuff, the more I wished I’d taken a guess about the giant pumpkin’s weight.
    It didn’t seem fair that a fuzzy, mewing, purring animal with bad-luck germs was ruining my chance at winning.
    All day long I thought about that giant pumpkin.
    All day long I thought about that black cat.
    Heading home on the school bus, I finally came up with the perfect plan.
    I could guess that pumpkin’s weight AND keep away from the black cat and her bad luck.
    All I had to do was send someone else into the bookstore to write down my guess!
    That way, I wouldn’t have to goanywhere near that cat.
    I knew just the guy to help me out.
    I ran into the house. Dad was doing work stuff in the kitchen.
    â€œHow was school, Roscoe?” he asked. He kissed me on top of my head.
    I plopped my backpack onto the kitchen table. “We learned all about how to guesstimate weight today.”
    â€œEstimate,” Dad said. “Cool. How much do you figure I weigh?”
    I thought for a minute. “Greater than a mouse. But less than a monster truck.”
    â€œNot bad,” Dad said.
    â€œI could get a chance for extra practice if you took me back to the bookstore,” I said.
    Dad raised his eyebrow. “Not the giant pumpkin again?”
    â€œI didn’t get to guess last time,” I said. “Cause of the bad-luck kitty.”
    Dad checked his watch. “Hazel and your mom are at Mommy and Me Music, so you and I have to pick up Max after hissoftball practice. I suppose we could stop at the bookstore on the way.”
    â€œYou’re the best dad in the whole entire metropolitan area,” I said.
    They say that on TV a lot.

    â€œWhy, thank you,” said Dad.
    â€œDad, do you believe in superstitions?” I asked.
    â€œWell, I’ve been known to knock on wood when I’m wishing for good luck. But I know it doesn’t really bring me luck.”
    â€œDo you have lucky underwear?”
    â€œNo. That’s your Uncle Ed’s department.”
    â€œDo you think black cats make you eat green beetles?”
    Dad scratched his head. “I’m not sure I’m following you, Roscoe.”
    â€œIt’s like this, Dad,” I said. “Would you mind writing down my pumpkin guess while I wait outside the bookstore?”
    Dad got an oh-I-get-it face. “Roscoe, your mom told me all about the black cat. If you want to go back to the store, you’regoing to have to go inside, kitty or no kitty. Black cats do not cause bad luck.”
    â€œNot unless they cross your path,” I said.
    â€œRoscoe,” said Dad firmly, “that’s just not