Phineas L. MacGuire . . . Gets Slimed! by Frances O'Roark Dowell Page B

dad’s,” she said. “He has a telescope. Except he’s always too busy to use it. Sometimes when I have a slumber party, we use it for spying on the people who live across the street.”
    I sighed. Leave it to Stacey Windham to take a perfectly good scientific tool like a telescope and use it for evil.
    Tonight at dinner I asked my mom if we could get
a
subscription to
Astronomy
magazine. She gave me her best I Spend Ten Zillion Dollars a Year on Stuff for You Already look and shook
her
head. “You get plenty of magazines.” She listed them on her fingers:
“National Geographic
Kids,
Scientific American, Ranger Rick.
…”
    â€˜â€œTo be honest, I think I’m getting kind of old for Ranger Rick. Maybe we could trade that subscription for one to
Astronomy.
”
    â€œToo old for
Ranger Rick?”
My mom looked stunned. “I read
Ranger Rick
until I wan twelve years old. You’re never too old for
Ranger Rick!
”
    My stepdad, Lyle, grabbed another piece of pizza from the box on the middle of the table. “You know, I saw something in the paper the other day about a SpaceCamp they have down in Alabama. I think it’s connected to NASA. The kids do a lot of stuff on Mars exploration.”
    I nearly jumped out of my chair. It was like every cell in my body got electrified at the same time. All of the sudden I knew that my life should revolve around the study of astronomy, space, and all things beyond Earth’s atmosphere. “Space Camp? Mars exploration? I need to go there immediately!”

    â€œIt’s pretty expensive,” Lyle told me through a mouth full of pizza. “And pretty far away.”
    â€œI could save up for it! I’ve already got twenty-nine dollars saved up for a chemistry set. I could use it for Space Camp instead.”
    My mom looked doubtful. “I don’t know, honey. I think you’re a little young for a sleepaway camp. Maybe when you’re eleven. Besides, I don’t think we can afford to send you to camp this year. The minivan’s almost too pooped to pop. It’s about time to buy a new one.”
    Leave it to my mom to put minivans before scientific knowledge.
    â€œWhat if I pay for everything myself?”
    My mom still looked doubtful. “If you saved up enough money for Space Camp—
and
a round-trip planeticket—then maybe I’d consider it. Maybe.”
    I ran around to the other side of the table and hugged my mom. Well, it wasn’t really a hug. It was more bumping my shoulder against her shoulder.
    We scientists are not big huggers as a rule.
    But my mom smiled anyway.
    She knows a scientific hug when she gets one.