Joe could not sleep. It was only 5 am, barely starting to get light outside, but he was lying in bed wide awake. For most people insomnia is a symptom of stress. Anxious thoughts keeping you from drifting into slumber. Joe certainly had a lot to be anxious about. His mother was an incredibly dangerous international super spy hunted by some of the most ruthless regimes in the world. His sister had rage issues. His brother had recently been injured by a giant potato. Any of these things would be a cause for concern. But that is not why Joe lay awake this morning. Joe was awake because he was hungry.

He was very large for a fifteen-year-old, six foot three now, and he got a lot of exercise both through playing sport and evading the amorous attacks of Daisy Odinsdottir. His growing body just burned through food. By 4 o’clock in the morning it was demanding more fuel. At this painfully early hour every morning, Joe was dragged from the depths of slumber by his stomach’s rumbling demands.

Joe felt bad that he ate so much. His Dad was not a wealthy man. And cost aside, Joe sometimes unwittingly ate so much there was little left for everyone else. April could get really angry if the only thing left for her breakfast was lentils. So Joe tried to hold out as long as possible before creeping from bed and sneaking downstairs for a snack. And Joe’s idea of a ‘snack’ meant a meal the size you would usually feed a horse or a pre-hibernation bear. It’s hard to sneak when you’re six foot three and weigh eighty-five kilograms. Especially in an old farm house where every floorboard has its own unique creaky spot.

April usually slept dead to the world. But Pumpkin was a dog and therefore had really good hearing. Plus, Pumpkin rarely slept at all. Joe knew April would never give her dog coffee. She loved animals too much for that. But Pumpkin always acted like he had drunk a whole jug of super-strength espresso. The little dog was permanently wired and ready to explode into action. Joe did not want to wake him. If Pumpkin woke up, he’d wake April up, then April would start yelling at him for eating too much. Food never tasted as good if you had to eat it while being yelled at.

Once he got downstairs Joe felt pretty safe. There was carpet in the hallway. He padded quickly to the kitchen. He was starving. He’d start with a pint of milk and four slices of toast, then take it from there. Joe flicked on the light and . . . he screamed, ‘Waaahhh!’

Loretta was sitting at the kitchen counter, nibbling on a bagel and drinking a cup of coffee.

‘Good morning,’ said Loretta, brightly.

In the distant reaches of the attic, Joe heard the sound of Pumpkin yapping. He slumped. They had about forty-five seconds before April would appear and start abusing them.

‘W-w-w-what are you doing up?’ asked Joe.

‘It’s announcement day!’ said Loretta.

Joe didn’t respond verbally. He just looked back at her bewildered.

‘The nominees for the Potato Princess will be printed in today’s local paper,’ explained Loretta.

‘Oooh,’ said Joe. He thought about this for a moment. ‘I-is there a local p-p-paper?’

‘Of course, silly,’ said Loretta. ‘Every house in Currawong has one delivered to the door once a week.’

‘I’ve n-never seen one,’ said Joe.

‘No,’ agreed Loretta. ‘Well, you may have done, but you wouldn’t have recognised it. Pumpkin has been eating them.’

Now Joe was more confused. ‘But he’s such a tiny dog.’

‘True,’ agreed Loretta. ‘To be strictly accurate Pumpkin runs around the garden savaging the newspaper, generally tearing it to shreds and slobbering all over it.’

‘Oh,’ said Joe. ‘Is that what the confetti on the lawn every Wednesday morning is?’

‘Yes,’ said Loretta. ‘Which is why I’m up early – to make sure I get to it before him this morning. I can’t wait to see who my competition is.’

They could hear the scratchy scrambling of Pumpkin’s toenails as he scampered down the stairs. ‘Uh-oh,’ said Joe. ‘He’s coming.’

‘Now Joe,’ chided Loretta. ‘You shouldn’t be scared of such a sweet little dog.’

‘You’re the one who got up early to b-beat him to the newspaper,’ Joe pointed out.

‘I admire his enthusiasm,’ said Loretta. ‘So few people are interested in old-fashioned physical newspapers these days.’

Pumpkin burst into the room, yapping.

‘Good morning, sweetheart,’ said Loretta, bending to give the little dog a pat. Pumpkin jumped up, pawing at Loretta’s stool, desperate to have his ears scratched. But then suddenly, Pumpkin’s head spun round and he froze.

‘What is it?’ asked Loretta. ‘Do you hear something?’

Then they could all hear it, the distant sound of footsteps crunching on the gravel driveway.

Pumpkin started barking wildly as he ran for the front door.

‘Quick!’ cried Loretta, rushing after the dog. ‘We can’t let Pumpkin get to him first!’

‘But the front door is shut,’ said Joe.

Loretta didn’t slow. Joe followed her, just in time to see April opening the front door.

‘Do you want to go out for your morning pee-pee?’ April was talking to Pumpkin.

‘No!’ cried Loretta.

But the door had already opened a few inches and that was all Pumpkin needed. He streaked away down the path. Loretta raced after him.

‘What’s going on?’ asked April. ‘What’s Loretta got against a dog peeing?’

‘Explain in a sec,’ said Joe, before bolting down the driveway after Loretta and the dog.

Up ahead a delivery man wearing a hi-vis yellow shirt was reaching into his big shoulder bag for a copy of the paper.

‘Watch out!’ Joe yelled in warning.

The delivery man looked up to see a startlingly beautiful girl hurtling straight for him. It was another second before he noticed the tiny dog speeding ahead of her. That hesitation was costly. He didn’t have enough time to turn and run. Like a deer frozen in the headlights of an oncoming truck, the panicked paperman froze.

Pumpkin leapt up at him, appearing to go for the jugular (something April had tried training her dog to do) but instead snatching the local paper out of the delivery man’s hand as he raised it up protectively in front of his face.

‘Agh!’ cried the delivery man.

‘Quick, run for it,’ urged Joe. ‘While he’s still busy.’

Pumpkin was gallivanting across the lawn, shaking the newspaper side to side. Loretta chased after him, which Pumpkin thought made everything even more fun. ‘Come on, sweetheart. Give the paper to Auntie Loretta. I’ll buy you a T-bone steak.’

‘My dog won’t be bribed,’ yelled April. She was still standing on the front porch of the house, because she didn’t have any shoes on. ‘He’s got too much integrity.’

‘But I need to read the paper,’ said Loretta, ducking and weaving around the flowerbeds and trying to catch Pumpkin. ‘I need to know how to prepare myself for the psychological warfare at school.’

‘It’s okay,’ called Joe. ‘I’ve got a copy.’

Loretta looked up to see Joe standing further down the driveway over a bright yellow shoulder bag. The delivery man had abandoned it, in his bid to escape unscathed. Joe reached down and grabbed a fresh copy. ‘I hope he doesn’t mind if we take an extra one.’

‘Serves him right for abandoning his job,’ said April. ‘People have no respect for duty any more.’

Joe picked up the rest of the shoulder bag too. ‘I’ll deliver the rest for him. After breakfast.’ It was nice to be helpful, but never at the expense of good nutrition.