Free Summer School! What Genius Thought That Up? by Henry Winkler Page A

use chunks of dry ice and pour water on them to create the lava smoke. We couldn’t rehearse that part in our clubhouse, because kids can’t handle dry ice themselves. It can burn you if you touch it. I think it’s so strange that ice can burn you from being too cold, but trust me, it’s true. Ashley’s mom and dad had agreed to bring the dry ice to the playground for us. They’re both doctors, so it was really nice of them to come home early to help. I guess that’s why Papa Pete calls them the good doctors Wong.
    After we finished our Magik 3 rehearsal, Ashley and Frankie sat down on the couch to listen to me go through my Einstein report. It was getting near bedtime, so I didn’t take the time to change into my Einstein costume. I have to confess, it felt a little strange to be talking like a German scientist while wearing nothing but palm leaves and foot pillows.
    Maybe it was the Kahuna Huna costume that distracted me. My German accent wasn’t bad, but I just couldn’t keep my facts straight. Even though I had written them down on index cards, it was like my eyes were looking at the sentences, but my brain was jumbling them up. I kept tripping over my words like my tongue was too big for my mouth.
    â€œI can’t do this!” I yelled out, when I couldn’t pronounce the word relativity three times in a row.
    â€œRemember the Big B, dude,” Frankie said.
    â€œFrankie, what are you talking about?”
    â€œBreathe, Zip. Breathe!”
    I took a breath.
    â€œThe word is re-la-tiv-i-ty ,” Ashley said, pronouncing it really slowly. “Come on. You know it, Hank.”
    I settled down and kept going. Finally, I came to the end of the report.
    â€œWhat did you think, guys?” I said, flopping down on the couch, exhausted. “Will I get an A?”
    Ashley didn’t answer. My heart started to beat faster.
    Frankie jumped in. “It’s definitely a B-plus. And that is a great grade, dude.”
    B-plus? No, not a B-plus.
    Without another word, I jumped up from the couch, ran out of the clubhouse to the elevator, and started pushing the button about a hundred times, hoping that would make the elevator come faster.
    I rode upstairs rehearsing—not my Einstein speech but what I was going to say to my father.
    I had to convince him that a B-plus was good enough to let me go to the luau. He had to say yes.
    Hey, I’m not proud. If I had to beg, I would.

CHAPTER 17

TEN WAYS TO BEG YOUR DAD TO SAY YES WHEN HE WANTS TO SAY NO
    1. Fall on the floor and pound the carpet, kicking and screaming. Whining is good too.
    2. When he says, “Stop that right away,” stand up, apologize, and say you were just kidding.
    3. Make sure you end every sentence with, “Pretty please with a cherry on top.”
    4. Tell him it will be your pleasure to polish every pair of shoes he owns or ever will own, even tennis shoes and flip-flops. And no, there is no tipping required.
    5. Promise him this is the last thing you’ll ever ask for except maybe a car when you’re sixteen and a new PlayStation on your birthday. Oh yeah, and the video games that go with it, but only four of them. Okay, five. But after that, nothing.
    6. Swear to keep his mechanical pencils always filled with fresh lead. (WARNING: If your dad isn’t a crossword-puzzle freak like mine, this one may not work so well.)
    7. Try a compliment. Tell him that he’s not going bald, he just looks really good in very short hair.
    8. Trust me, guilt works. Just mention that you know he loves your sister more than you, but it’s okay, because you’re fine with it. It only hurts a tiny little bit.
    9. Don’t try to scare him, but you might mention that if you don’t get what you want, you may have to go lie down under your bed until you’re forty-five.
    10. Whimper like a puppy dog.
    11. Go simple and just say please.***
    ***I can’t believe that after all the