The Life of Ty: Penguin Problems Read Free Page B

sometimes-good-sometimes-sneaky-clawed cat, so I use a whispery yell to call out, “Winnie!”
    â€œWhat?” Winnie calls back.
    â€œI need you!”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œI just do!”
    She growls, loud enough for me to hear. But she comes to my room. “Yes?”
    â€œSweetie-Pie’s under my bed.”
    â€œSo?”
    â€œIf I put my foot out, she’ll eat it.”
    â€œShe will not.”
    â€œShe might.”
    â€œThen stand up and jump off, so she can’t reach you.”
    â€œWhat if she’s in a pouncing mood?”
    Winnie puts her hands on her hips. “Ty, you’re acting babyish. Just get out of bed.”
    My ribs go whooomph, like someone tied a rope around them and pulled it tight.
    â€œNever mind,” I say. “You can leave now.”
    She does.
    Sweetie-Pie meows.
    â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢
    It’s my pee that finally gets me. I hold it until I can’t anymore. Until I almost explode, which would be awesome, but messy. Tinkle-sprinkles everywhere! Ahhhh!
    I lean over my bed and say, “Sweetie-Pie, out .”
    Her eyes gleam. I jerk back.
    What am I going to do?
    There’s no point calling for Sandra. She’d say, “Deal with it yourself. You’re a big guy.” And Dad’s already left for work. So what do I do ?
    If I had a broom, I could jab her out.
    If I had an eagle, the eagle could swoop down and grab her and fly off into the distance. Bye-bye, Sweetie-Pie!
    Only that would be sad, because the eagle would eat her. Anyway, I don’t have an eagle.
    I do have eagle eyes, though. Mom’s always telling me that. She’ll say, “Ty, will you see if you can find the safety pin I dropped?” And when I do, she says, “You, my darling dude, have eagle eyes. Thank you.”
    I turn on my eagle eyes and scan my room. There’s got to be something I can use.
    My Lava lamp?
    My copy of Toys Go Out ?
    How about . . . ah-ha! My old pal the Dustbuster! Mom gave it to me because I love it, and because I begged. I get lots of things that way:
    â€”a gold belt of Winnie’s with two hearts that hook together. I think it came from a pirate ship.
    â€”a dragon puppet I gave Dad for Father’s Day.
    â€”one of Teensy Baby Maggie’s burp cloths because it already was mine. It says TY on it and everything. So even though it was a handy-down, Mom wasn’t allowed to say, “Here, Teensy Baby Maggie, this can be yours now.” It has a football embroidered on it, and a little boy wearing a red cap and a yellow shirt, and it’s mine .
    The Dustbuster is blue and called “The Shark.” It’s cordless except when it’s plugged into the wall. When the light on the side is red, the battery needs charging. When the light is green, Sharkie is ready to suck up anything in its way.
    I kick off my covers and scooch to the end of my bed closest to my dresser. That’s where Sharkie lives, plugged into an outlet in the wall.
    His charged-up light is green. Yes .
    I think for a bit, and then I wrap my hand in my sheet. I lean off my bed and s-t-r-e-t-c-h over the ocean of carpet, and I almost fall. But I don’t!I grab Sharkie and sit back on my bed. I yank the cord out of its bottom, and when it falls to the ground, a black-and-white paw snakes out and snags it.
    I think, Too bad for you, Sweetie-Pie, because the cord is just a cord . Sharkie, on the other hand, knows how to roar.
    I aim Sharkie under the bed and slide the power button to on. ROOOOAAAAAAARRRRRRRR!!!!!!!
    Sweetie-Pie yowls and dashes out. Her fur goes spiky like Tom’s from Tom and Jerry, and her ears pull back. I hop out of bed and chase her, jutting Sharkie in front of me.

    â€œHai-ya!” I cry. “Hai-ya, hai-ya!”
    Mom yells something.
    â€œWhat?” I yell back.
    Sandra, from her bedroom, yells something.
    â€œWhat???”
    Winnie storms into my room. “Ty!” she