hen I woke up there was a Post-it note stuck to my forehead. It said, “Sport, I came to see you but you were asleep. I had to get to the office early this morning but we'll have time together tonight.”

I put on yesterday's pants and socks that were sticking out from under my bed and my Florida Gators shirt. My mom is a teeth-brushing fanatic who thinks it's a disaster if you even skip one day but I had to see if anything was creeping around the kitchen. Luckily, my mom was the only one.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” she said.

“Hi there,” I said in a cheerful way.

“Are you looking for something?” she said.

“Breakfast,” I said. “Only breakfast. Nothing else. At all.”

“I'll fix your cereal while you're changing out of those dirty clothes,” she said.

“I only wore them one time,” I said.

“I can smell them from here,” she said.

“You're very observant,” I said. “That's a skill every scientist needs.”

Then I had a terrible thought. “Don't fix me anything!” I said. “I'm old enough to fix my own!”

“Okay, but I'll pour the milk,” she said.

“Back in a flash,” I said.

I ran downstairs and put on the clothes that were on top of my clean laundry pile. When I got back, my mom's fingers were a millimeter from the cabinet knob.

I slipped my hand under hers. “I got it!” I said.

“Okay,” she said. “I'll go fix the coffee.”

The Frankenberry box was my first clue. The corner was chewed. Next to it was a stack of fake berries and tan Frankens. “I'm in the mood for Lucky Charms,” I said.

“I thought you were tired of them,” she said.

“All of a sudden I love them again.”

I looked before I poured. “Nothing but cereal and delicious marshmallow surprises,” I said.

“What else were you expecting?” she said.

I made a fake laugh.

She was reading the Style page of the newspaper. “You should be in that section, Mom,” I said. “You have good style.”

She looked surprised. “Thank you, Adam,” she said. “I never knew you noticed.”

Being nice on purpose felt crummy because there was a good chance that she would be mad at me soon.

I was turning into a liar before my own eyes. “I think I hear the dryer buzzing,” I said.

“You do?” she said. “I haven't turned it on today.”

“Maybe Dad did,” I said.

“I'd better check,” she said.

My mom can't stand wasted buzzing. That's why I said it.

After she left, I grabbed the Frankenberry box by its gnawed corner and stuffed it in my backpack.

“The dryer wasn't buzzing,” she said.

“I'm probably suffering from ringing in my ears,” I said. “They have ads for it on TV.”

“You'd better scoot if you're going to walk with Jonique, Lucy Rose, and Sam,” she said.

When I met them in front of Congress Market I pulled the waxed-paper sack out of the box. “I lost our mouse. It found our cereal. Now I have a back-pack full of Frankenberries.”

“At least we have a snack,” Sam said.

“That is disgusting in the absolute extreme,” Lucy Rose said. “Also wretched.”

“Totally,” Jonique said. “I never eat anything that has had rodent feet walking on it.”

“They're small feet,” I said.

Jonique turned my backpack upside down and dumped everything in the market's trash can.

“Now my homework has coffee on it,” I said.

I wiped it off on Jonique's red jacket. It hardly shows but now she says she's not talking to me.