1  
THE LIST OF DOOM    
Chair walking is a top skill of mine. Most people can't do it. Bart Bigelow begs me to teach him the Melonhead Method. I tell him, "Number one. I don't plan to chair walk. It just happens. Number two. It only happens for monumental reasons."   Like the last bell on the last day of fourth grade. When it rang I got an unstoppable urge. I had to jump on my chair. With one foot on the edge of each side, I tilted to the right. The left chair leg lifted off the floor. I tipped it forward and did myquick twist. That chair and I were on the move.   "Adam Melon," Mrs. Timony said. "For the last time this year, get DOWN."   "Don't worry," I said. "I'm over the falling stage."   I landed on Kathleen's desk.   "Melonhead!" she screamed.   Jonique shrieked, "You smashed her Early Americans diorama."   "To reens and smithereens," Lucy Rose said.   "I know," I said. "I can feel Pilgrims poking me in the back."   Mrs. Timony rushed over. "Adam, are you hurt?"   "Nope," I said. "But I'm sorry about the diorama, Kathleen."   "I was done with it anyway," she said.   "Send him to Mr. Pitt!" Ashley yelled.   Mr. Pitt is in charge of behavior.   Mrs. Timony clapped her hands to make the class pay attention. "People who have inventions on the back table may go get them. State fair projects are by the door. Do not forget your art portfolios. You are a wonderful class and you are now dismissed."   Everyone yelled and clapped. Most of the boys stomped their feet. Robinson Gold put her pinkie fingers in her mouth and let out a fierce whistle. I hooted. My best friend, Sam, yelled, "We're official fifth graders!"   The rest of the class left in a rush.   "Adam and Sam," Mrs. Timony said. "It's time to pack up the Miraculous Mesmerizer."   The M.M. was supposed to hypnotize people. It only worked on Lucy Rose. She might have been faking.   Mrs. Timony gave us a bag for the Mesmerizer's marbles.   "Thanks," Sam said. "When we brought the M.M. to school, the marbles escaped on the stairs."   "And Mr. Pitt was behind us," I said. "His legs got sprained."   "I remember," Mrs. Timony said. "Are you boys going to baseball camp again?"   "I can't," I told her. "My mom thinks it gives me dangerous ideas."   "Why would she think that?" Mrs. Timony asked.   "She's against fire," Sam said.   "Most mothers are," Mrs. Timony said. "What does fire have to do with baseball camp?"   "At the end of camp, Coach R.J. juggles flaming baseball bats," I said. "Real fire. Real bats. Five at once. It's the show that beats all shows. Believe me. If you don't, ask Sam."   "Believe him," Sam said.   Mrs. Timony nodded. "I imagine your mom worries that you will be tempted to light baseball bats on fire."   "We would never," Sam said. "You can't go around playing with fire."   "She's also against bat throwing," I said.   "We did try that," Sam said.   "But now I know how to toss bats so I don't give myself a concussion," I told Mrs. Timony.   "Dr. Stroud called it mild, but Mrs. Melon outlawed it," Sam said.   "Mothers can be awfully picky," Mrs. Timony said.   "Can they ever," I said.   Mrs. Timony laughed.   About what, I don't know.   "My mom is picking us up so we don't have to carry the Mesmerizer," I said.   Mrs. Timony lugged the spinning tube parts to the door.   "You're a great teacher, Mrs. Timony," I told her. "You hardly ever panic."   "You are interesting students," she said. "Your ideas don't always work, but they are original. I admire your energy. And, Adam, I've gotten so used to your rowdy celebrations that I may have to ask my husband to stand on a kitchen chair and wiggle."   "I'd like to watch that," I said.   She smiled. "Do something wonderful this summer, boys. Try to stay out of trouble."   "We haven't had one single incident in over two weeks," Sam said.   "The last one was too small to count," I told Mrs. Timony. "The only things that got hurt were Sam's math book, my dad's white socks, and some mangoes."   Since Sam couldn't see over the Mesmerizer's silver reflecting board, I talked him down the steps and led him to the Melonmobile.   "Hop in, fifth graders," my mom said. "We're celebrating at Baking Divas."   The Divas are our personal friends. Also, they're the mom and aunt of our friend Jonique McBee. Sometimes they give Sam and me old cookies for free.   "I'm starving for a Crazin' Raisin bar," I told Mrs. McBee.   Sam picked a BooMeringue.   "Once you have one, you keep coming back for more," Aunt Frankie told us. "Get it?"   My mom got iced tea and a Snow Scone. The snow is sugar powder. We sat at an outside table.   "How was the last day of school?" she asked.   "Bart Bigelow took apart the pencil sharpener," I said. "He dumped it out in Ashley's backpack."   "Ground-up pencil really shows up on yellow," Sam said.   "Poor Ashley," my mom said.   "She kind of deserved it," I said. "She called him Nosepicker."   "I don't know how Mrs. Timony can keep up with twenty-two children," my mom said. "In fact, I don't know how your mom keeps up with two, Sam."   "I'm a pretty easy kid," Sam said.   My mom laughed.   Then she said, "Adam, I have something for you."   "Is it a fossil?" I asked. "Because as soon as I get one, I'm starting a collection."   "No," my mom said. "It's something I made to help you. I want you to keep it with you all summer."   I thought, Please don't let it be another sunblock carrier.   It was an index card.   "To make it fun I named it Remind-O-Rama," she said.   "What does it do?" I asked.   "Whenever you get an idea, just check the Remind-O. If you see it, don't do it."   Every sentence was in a different color.  
1. NO walking on roofs.  
2. NO climbing trees.  
3. NO putting things in your nose.  
4. NO snakes.  
5. NO rodents.  
6. NO playing in our yard until after the Capitol Hill House & Garden Tour and Contest.  
7. NO haircuts by nonprofessionals.  
"There's nothing left," I said.   It's the List of Doom.   Sam got to stay for dinner. We had chicken chunks with mayonnaise. I don't love it but
(1) When my dad is home for dinner my mom fixes food he likes, and
(2) Compared to the L.O.D., slimy chicken is not the biggest deal.  
"Adam, there are lots of other fun things to do," my mom said. "We'll put together a great summer. How does arts and crafts camp sound?"   Like jail.   "Does this mean I can't play with Jimmy Conroy's new white rat?"   My mom shivered. "I'm sorry, darling boy, but rodents are unsanitary."   "Mrs. Conroy is a teacher," Sam said. "She'd only buy a sanitary one."   "Betty," my dad said, "I think it's different when the rat is a pet."   "It's unbearable to think about rodent teeth snapping down on Adam's skin," she said.   "Not to me," I said. "I'd like having a rat scar."   "I think our boy has learned from past adventures," my dad said. "I don't know that he needs a list."   "The Remind-O is to help him make good choices," my mom told my dad.   "Adam," she said to me, "it's for your safety and for my mental health. I won't be able to concentrate on the garden contest, or anything else, if I'm always wondering if you and Sam are keeping company with snakes or stuck in a tree or falling off a roof.I'll admit, I'm a little bit of a worrier."   "My dad says you are a big worrier," Sam said.   "He does?" my mom said.   "Not big like fat," he said to Sam. "Big like a lot. Like you worry a lot. My dad would never call you fat."   "I wouldn't say I'm a big worrier," she said. "I'm just careful."   My dad smiled at me.   "Would it cheer you up to know that we got five hundred ladybugs in the mail today?" my mom asked. "They're going to eat the aphids that are eating my rosebushes."   "May Sam and I see them?" I asked.   "Not now," she said. "Riding around in the mail makes ladybugs hyper. To calm down they have to stay in the refrigerator until tomorrow evening."   My dad looked at my mom and said, "You know, Betty, among us Melons, Adam has the most insect experience."   "Absolutely," she said.   "I believe our son is the man for the ladies," my dad said.   "You're right," my mom told him. "Adam, for the next twenty-four hours you are the official lady_bug keeper."   "Really?" I said. "Thanks!"   "Isn't that better than hanging out with a rat?" my mom asked.   "Mom," I said. "Did you know that when you say rat, your arm hair jumps straight up? It looks like a little hair forest."   "Lucky thing it's dark brown or nobody could see it," Sam said.   My dad says ladies like compliments.        

2  
FIVE HUNDRED MISTAKES    
This morning I was in my room timing how long I could stand on my head, when I remembered the time our refrigerator got so cold that the eggs froze.   I did one quick flip and jumped down the steps three at a time. I ran through the dining room, slid across the kitchen floor, and yanked open the refrigerator. The box was in between a jar of dill pickles and a jug of maple syrup. The pickle jar was icecold. The ladybugs had to be shivering.   When I opened the box, it was worse.   They were dead.   "I'm sorry, ladies," I said. I felt lousy.   To check for survivors, I stirred them with my finger.   Good luck struck. One wiggled.   "Come on, girl," I said. "You can make it."   I gave the box a gentle shake. Nothing. Then a stream of 499 ladybugs flew out of the box. One stayed. It was dead.   The good news was the miracle of ladybug life. The bad news: my mom goes nuts if she sees ONE bug in the kitchen.   I yanked open the back door. "Shoo," I said. "Go outside. Vamoose. Fly."   "Adam?" my mom yelled. "Is that you?"   I didn't expect her to be in the yard.   I ran outside, stood on the porch, and yelled.   "Great news! The ladybugs aren't dead."   She yelled back, "What did you say?"   "Uh, ladybugs are red," I said.   "You thought they came in colors?" she said.   I fake-laughed and raced back inside. I started waving dishtowels to show the bugs the way out. In case they had ears, I gave directions. "This way to the aphid buffet."   My mom was walking up the back steps.   "Don't come in," I yelled. That never works so I had to admit it. "Ladybugs are on the loose."   "Not until this evening," my mom said.   "A few escaped," I said. "But don't panic. I've got them under control."   I don't know why the ladies went for her hair.   My mom flung her head around. "Ack! One is in my ear!"   "Don't panic," I said. "I've got the DustBuster." I sucked up a clump of her hair. "Stay still so I can vacuum them."   My mom put her hands up like she was trying to keep me away.   "Don't worry," I said. "The ladybugs will be fine. They are getting sucked up the chute and landing in the soft inside pocket. They probably think they're at Bugland Amusement Park. After they're caught, I'll give them their freedom. Outside."   "I DO NOT want my hair vacuumed," my mom said, and ran out the back door.   She was dancing around on the back porch when my dad came back from jogging.   "I like your hair that way, Betty," he said. "It's kind of crazy."   "It matches the way I'm feeling," she said.   "Some ladybugs escaped," I said.   "Every ladybug escaped," she said. "They're everywhere."   "Especially the ceiling," I said.   My dad patted my mom's back. "Ladybug cleanup is a father-son job," he said.   It took the rest of the morning. And when we were finally done, we had to discuss the situation. "Well, Sport," my dad said. "Did you learn anything?"   "Ladybugs don't freeze?" I said.   "Think before doing," my dad said.   "Good one," I said.   "Did you tell Mom you're sorry?" he asked.   "Yep," I said. "Plus, I'm going to make up for my mistake. There are still three trays of worms that need to be unloaded."   "Isn't it time for Pop's Second Annual School's Out Extravaganza at Jimmy T's restaurant?" he asked.   Pop is my old friend. He's also Lucy Rose's grandfather. Sometimes he lets me use his saw.   "It's not for an hour," I said. "And worms are waiting."   "You should go early and save a table," my dad said.   "Okay," I said.   I leaned over the porch railing and yelled goodbye to my mom.   "Before you go, bring me the Remind-O," she said.   She wrote on the bottom:   8. NO bugs in the house.        

3  
I'M A CHUCKLEHEAD    
Sam and I nabbed the window booth at Jimmy T's. We like to press our nostrils against the glass. People who aren't expecting to see pig faces jump in horror. But Mrs. T. gets mad when we get boogers on the glass so we just played Jenga with jelly packetsuntil Pop, Lucy Rose, and Jonique got there.   Lucy Rose came in yelling, "Yippee-yi-yo, cowgirl! School's out."   Jonique was behind her. "Pop wrote a song against school," she said.   Pop sang, "Got no worries, got no fears, because I haven't been to school in thirty-eight years."   I laughed so hard my ice water came out of my nose. That is an interesting feeling.   A lady in the back booth waved at Pop. "Short and clever. Just like the singer."   The teenager sitting next to her said, "If you need a backup musician, I play guitar."   "Thanks, Justin," Pop said.   "Justin!" I whispered. "That's the guy who called me chucklehead when I was stuck in the tree."   "Maybe he thinks your last name is Chuckle," Jonique said.   "Melonhead, Chucklehead, he could get them confused," Sam said.   "Besides, I completely doubt he remembers," Jonique said.   "The whole neighborhood remembers," I said.   "That's true," Lucy Rose said. "They do."   "That was a small mishap," Pop said quietly. "And it's the only one Justin knows about."   "Wrong," I said. "Whenever he shows up, my life explodes."   "Last month the fence tore a hole as big as a piece of pizza in the back of Melonhead's pants," Sam said. "He had to walk home holding his butt."   "Guess who was walking right behind me," I whispered.   Lucy Rose and Jonique laughed like girl baboons.   "Justin is a jinx to you," Lucy Rose said.