“Be a good sport. Measure me.” Simon shoved a tape measure in my face.
“I told you, Simon. You haven’t grown since yesterday! Now—leave me alone.”
I had just returned home from the worst day of my life. I definitely was not in the mood to measure Simon.
“My project is a loser.” Simon lowered his eyes. “A total loser.”
It was hard not to feel sorry for Simon. He was so serious about his science project.
I tried to cheer him up. “Simon, we just don’t grow that fast,” I said.
“Maybe you should study something else. How about measuring a puppy? Puppies grow faster than we do. Much faster.”
“But we don’t have a puppy,” Simon replied.
“How about Brutus? You can measure Brutus,” I said, guiding Simon out of my bedroom.
“Brutus isn’t going to grow any more,” Simon whined. “You know that. He’s too old.”
“I’ll think about it,” I told him. “I’ll try to come up with something you can study. But I need to think—alone.”
I gave Simon a soft shove out of my room.
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