Turkey Monster Thanksgiving Read Online Free PDF Page A

pretty plate,” I said. “I’ll make them Thursday morning, while the turkey cooks.”
    He slumped over his keyboard. “I can’t think about that turkey.”
    I waved the magazine at him. “Don’t worry, Dad. All the turkey answers are right here.”
    The phone rang and Dad picked it up. It was Mom, calling from Nashville. First, she talked to Dad. Then to Tyler. Finally, it was my turn. “What are you up to?” she asked. I loved hearing her voice. Even Mom’s talking sounded like singing.
    “I’m getting us ready for Thanksgiving,” I told her. I described the festoons and the turkey on the door. “I wish you could come to our dinner.”
    “I wish I could, too. You know what? I might be working Thanksgiving Day. It’s pretty frantic here.” She covered the phone and talked to someone. “Look, honey,” she said when she came back, “I’m afraid I’ve got to go. I’ll call next Saturday and talk to you first. I want to hear all about your dinner.”
    After we hung up, I went to my bedroom and stared at the poster I’d hung next to my dresser. Mom sure didn’t look like a mom in her white cowboy boots and tight jeans and a sparkled red top. “I’m going to wear the dress you gave me,” I told the poster.
    It took a while to find it in my closet. It was blue! I’d forgotten that. The blue ruffled collar and blue skinny sleeves reminded me of Claire Plummer. I shrugged out of my tee shirt and jeans and pulled the dress over my head. Stuck!
    “Ahem,” said Dad’s voice. “Is that dress holding you prisoner?”
    “It’s too small.” I pulled it off and threw it on the floor. “Anyway, I don’t like it.”
    Dad nodded. “It’s a nice dress, but it doesn’t look like you. Your mother …” He stopped.
    I pulled on my jeans and shirt. “She doesn’t even know what I like.”
    He stood there a moment without speaking. Then he wiggled his shoulders and rubbed his back against the door frame like a bear rubbing against a tree. “I need a break from Flagstaff’s report. Shall we take Tyler to the park? It’s not raining.”
    I kicked the blue dress under my bed. I didn’t feel like going anywhere. But then, I changed my mind. “Let’s go.”
    After dinner that night, Dad put me on bathtub duty. My job was to sit on the toilet seat with my book and make sure Tyler didn’t go underwater or flood the bathroom.
    Dad was back at his desk across the hall from us. I could hear his fingers racing across the computer keys. That report was sure keeping him busy. His phone rang. “Hello,” he said.
    Tyler splashed in the tub. “Chug-a, chug-a.” He whammed two tugboats together.
    “Don’t get my book wet,” I told him.
    Dad’s voice suddenly got louder. “Ms. Morgan?” he asked. And then he closed his office door, and I couldn’t hear him at all.

Chapter 12
Dad Makes a List
    A FEW MINUTES LATER , Dad came into the bathroom. He took his glasses off as they clouded over with steam. “That was your teacher.”
    “Oh?” I closed my book and pressed it against my aching stomach.
    “She thinks we’re having company for Thanksgiving dinner.”
    I swallowed. My ears crackled.
    “She thinks SHE is our company for Thanksgiving dinner.”
    I sagged over. My book stuck sharp corners into my chest.
    “She called to say she’s bringing two pies.” Dad’s voice was tired. He rubbed his forehead. “Who else is coming?”
    “Just her. No one else.”
    “Didn’t you hear me say ‘no company’?” he asked.
    Tyler stared at Dad with big, round eyes. “Get me out now.” He stood up and tub water sloshed around his knees. “I want my train jammies.”
    Dad reached for the towel and lifted Tyler out of the tub.
    The tub water gurgled down the drain.
    “I wanted to watch the game and enjoy my family,” he said in that same tired voice. “I wanted to get this report done. And then, I wanted to relax.”
    “Can I have a story?” Tyler asked. His chin wobbled. His eyes filled with