Also Known as Elvis by James Howe Page B

off, I find myself missing working there, and pretty soon I’m dreaming about making hot fudge sundaes and banana splits. In the dreams, I’m using these random ingredients, like ketchup and dog biscuits and nut boxes. Nut boxes! I don’t even know what they are, but I’m topping off sundaes with them, and everybody seems to like them, because there’s a big sign in the Candy Kitchen window (except it doesn’t look anything like the Candy Kitchen, being a dream and all) that says SKEEZIE’S FAMOUS SUNDAES, NOW WITH NUT BOXES!
    I wake up laughing. I swear, I’m so ready for my own reality show.
    Anyways, Tuesday morning I walk Megan and Jessie to day camp (their third one this summer), then text Becca on the walk back home.
    hey, we still got a date with a dog?
    OMG! I AM SO PSYCHED! My mom says it’s good ur coming with, so u can stop me from taking home every dog I see
    who says I’m going to stop u?
    lol!!! c u at 12
    later
    It’s really peaceful when I get back home. No sisters. No mom. Then that dog Oscar pops into my head and I think: no dog.
    I head out back to Penny’s old doghouse. I’m all set to crawl inside when my phone buzzes in my jacket pocket.
    You never call, you never write.
    hi addie
    You never capitalize, you never punctuate.
    Hi! Addie?
    That’s better. How are you?
    A.W,E:S?O;M-E!
    I see that my being away hasn’t robbed you of your sense of humor. What a shame. Miss me much?
    Who is this again?
    Very funny.
    We go back and forth like this for a while, Addie eventually telling me what she’s been doing with her grandma (who is cooler than 99 percent of the grandmothers on the planet) and me telling her what’s been going on with me. When I say I’m looking at dogs with Becca in a couple of hours, she says, Sounds like fun. Just be careful.
    what do you mean, I text back.
    I wait a full minute until she writes, Sorry, I’ve got to go. Getting our hands hennaed. Running late. Ciao.
    Okay:
    1. She has clearly been texting with Joe. Addie never said “ciao” before in her life.
    2. What does “getting our hands hennaed” mean?
    3. More important, what does “just be careful” mean? Careful of what?
    Becca and her mom show up early. I’ve met her mom before. She’s pretty nice as moms go. And she seems even nicer today because she’s asexcited about getting a dog as Becca is. In the back of her station wagon are a crate, a doggy bed, and two overstuffed, humongous bags full of toys and food from Pete’s Pets.
    â€œI guess you’re planning on going home with a dog,” I crack, and they both smile at me from the front seat.
    â€œThanks so much for going with us, Skeezie,” says Mrs. Wrightsman. “I’m afraid we both need somebody to be the voice of reason.”
    â€œI’m not sure I’m the right guy for the job,” I say. “I’m a sucker for dogs.”
    â€œI was telling Mom about Penny,” says Becca, turning down the corners of her mouth into an aw, poor Skeezie frown. I think she means it.
    â€œI’m so sorry,” Mrs. Wrightsman says. “I know it happened a long time ago, but I don’t believe we ever get over losing a pet. I had a canary named Alice that flew out of the window when I was, oh, nine or so. And to this day—”
    â€œMom!” Becca says sharply. “I don’t think a canary and a dog are the same thing.”
    â€œWell, of course they’re not the same thing, Becca. One is a bird and one is a dog. But you didn’t know Alice, did you? I did, and let me tell you, she was not your usual canary.”
    â€œOmigod!” Becca cries. “I so have to tweet that!”
    While Becca’s thumbs are busy tweeting “She was not your usual canary,” her mom and I exchange sympathetic looks in the rearview mirror.
    â€œI get what you’re saying, Mrs. Wrightsman,” I tell