Athlete vs. Mathlete by W. C. Mack Page B

no one was in the mood to talk about the egg challenge. In fact, they seemed to stop listening as soon as I said the word basketball.

    Later that evening I tracked Mom down in the den, where she was flipping through a magazine.
    â€œWould you mind helping me with a baking fund-raiser?” I asked.
    â€œSounds fun.” She smiled. “When is it?”
    â€œTomorrow.”
    She stared at me, then at her watch. “Are you kidding, Russell? It’s past nine o’clock.”
    â€œI know. I’m sorry. I was distracted after my meeting and I forgot about it.”
    I didn’t tell her that the distraction was trying on my Pioneers uniform and practicing jump shots in front of my bedroom mirror. I looked pretty good!
    â€œOkay,” she said, and sighed, getting up from her chair. “It would have been nice to know about this before your team ate all my peanut-butter bars, though, don’t you think?”
    â€œGood point.” I winced.
    â€œBut let’s see what we can whip up.”
    I followed her into the kitchen, where she checked the pantry for ingredients.
    â€œWhat about chocolate-chip cookies?” she asked.
    â€œPerfect.” I would have happily agreed to anything she suggested.
    She carried flour, salt, vanilla, and brown and white sugars over to the island in the middle of the kitchen.
    â€œCan you please grab the butter and eggs, Russell?”
    Uh-oh.
    I opened the fridge door, hoping something had changed since I’d borrowed the challenge ingredients for my Masters meeting.
    It hadn’t.
    â€œIt looks like we’re out of eggs,” I told her.
    â€œWhat? I had most of a carton in there.”
    â€œI had to use some for a Masters of the Mind project.”
    Mom rested one hand on her hip. “And what was this project?”
    I explained the challenge, with plenty of detail, but Mom only focused on one fact.
    â€œYou threw half a dozen eggs out of Jason’s window?”
    â€œWhen you put it that way, it sounds wasteful,” I told her.
    â€œIt
is
wasteful,” Owen said as he moved past me to get the milk.
    â€œMasters of the Mind is about science and experimentation,” I explained, feeling defensive. “If there were no experiments, we’d never find cures for diseases or—”
    â€œHold on,” Owen said, leaving the empty milk jug on the counter. “Are you saying that throwing eggs out of a window is going to cure cancer?”
    â€œNo,” I snapped. “All I’m saying is—”
    â€œAll
I’m
saying,” Mom interrupted, “is that no eggs means no cookies.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œRussell, I can’t bake anything without eggs. You should have given me more warning. Never mind the fact that you should have asked for permission before using the last of them.”
    â€œBut I need the cookies for tomorrow.” I couldn’t let the team down! I was the leader! I had to do something. “Hold on.”
    I ran into the den and logged on to the Internet. My fingers flew over the keyboard as I searched. The first substitute I found for eggs in baking was milk. I shook my head and sighed with irritation. Owen had just guzzled the last of it.
    And why was he being so cranky, anyway?
    I didn’t have time to worry about it.
    I kept typing and within minutes, I was running back into the kitchen with great news.
    â€œApplesauce!” I said.
    â€œWhat?” Mom looked at me like I was speaking another language.
    â€œTwo-thirds of a cup of applesauce is equal to one egg.”
    She sighed. I was pretty sure she wanted to get back to her magazine.
    â€œPlease, help me,” I begged.
    And she did.
    But that didn’t mean the bake sale went according to plan.

    I carried my box of cookies to school on Friday, peeking at them every now and then to see if they looked any better.
    They didn’t.
    When they’d come out of the oven looking gooey, Mom did