5

The World’s Ugliest Sweater

“Don’t forget Emma and Gus are coming over for a playdate,” Mom said after I put my stuff away.

“Mom,” I said with a groan, “we are not having a playdate. Hazel has playdates. We are hanging out.”

“Well, when they get to the house for the hang-out, please wear your new sweater if you go outside,” Mom said.

“I will never wear that sweater,” I said.

I crossed my arms over my chest. To show I meant business.

“Your grandmother knitted that sweater with her own two hands,” Mom said.

“It has hearts on it! And flowers! And smiley faces! And baby ducks!” I cried.

“No sweater,” Mom said, “no hang-out with Gus and Emma.”

She tossed me the sweater. I put it on.

One side dangled down to my knees.

There was a pink bunny on the right sleeve. I hadn’t noticed him before.

“NO!” Max cried. He covered his eyes. “Not the sweater of doom!”

Hazel wrinkled up her nose. “Why is there a monkey on the elbow?”

“That’s a puppy,” Mom said. She frowned. “At least, I think it is.”

“Goofy and I are going to wait for Gus and Emma on the front porch,” I said. “Cross your fingers nobody sees me.”

“It was knit with love,” Mom said. “It has sentimental value.”

“What’s mentisental value?” I asked.

“Sentimental value means you have to pretend to love your sweater when Grandma’s here,” Max said.

“Sentimental value,” said Mom, “means that a gift is special to you because it came from someone you love.”

I went outside. Goofy came with me.

He is a big, whitish guy dog with floppy ears.

His tail is usually in high gear.

And he almost always has something in his mouth.

Right now he had Mom’s cell phone.

“Not a good idea, Goofy,” I said.

I went back inside and gave Mom the wet cell phone.

When I returned to the porch, Emma’s dad dropped off Gus and Emma.

Gus and Emma live on the same street. It’s a few blocks away from my house.

I wish I lived near them. Then we could be neighbors and best friends. Which is very nice for hang-outs.

They ran over to the porch. Goofy licked their hands and wagged his tail extra speedy.

Then he licked one of Gus’s sneakers for a while.

“You look kind of down in the dumps, Roscoe,” Emma said.

“My sweater’s ugly,” I said. “And also I don’t have any trophies and stuff like you guys.”

Emma thought. “I would call your sweater interesting.”

“I would call it very interesting,” Gus said. “Why is there an armadillo on your shoulder?”

“That’s a cow,” I said.

“No,” said Emma. “I’m pretty sure that’s a kangaroo.”

“COULD WE STOP TALKING ABOUT MY SWEATER?” I demanded.

Gus grinned. “Maybe you could get a blue ribbon for World’s Weirdest Sweater.”

I gave him my extra scary look.

“Okay, okay. No more sweater talk,” he said.

“You know,” said Emma, “it’s never too late to get a trophy or a medal for something. You could learn to be a rodeo rider. Or an Olympic high diver.”

Goofy started chasing his tail. He spun in crazy circles. He looked like a big white doughnut.

“Maybe Goofy could win a trophy for Best Tail Chaser,” Gus said.

Goofy slammed into a bush.

“Or not,” Emma added.