By Lois Lowry
Aid! Anastasia Krupnik's mom needs to manage her chaotic existence. So Anastasia, who's a truly prepared individual, and her father invent the answer to Mrs. Krupnik's challenge: the Krupnik kinfolk Nonsexist house responsibilities Schedule.
But whilst Mrs. Krupnik is going to California on a ten-day work trip, Anastasia unearths that the matter isn't solved in any respect. It's not easy to stay to a time table that doesn't depart room for her little brother, Sam, who's come down with the poultry pox, and her father's former female friend, who's invited herself to dinner. How is Anastasia purported to do something about those interruptions while she's making plans her first dream-date dinner for Steve Harvey?
It's a cinch. so long as she sticks to the Krupnik Romantic Dinner Week time table, what might be able to get it wrong?
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Extra info for Anastasia on Her Own (Anastasia Krupnik, book 5)
It was beautiful. Ivy pictured the shimmering creature on her shoulder like a little jewel and held her breath. Careful. Don’t move. Think like a hummingbird. “Vvvvvvvum,” she murmured. ” said Bean. Ivy shook her head. Shhh, Bean. The hummingbird darted from flower to flower. Come on, look at me, thought Ivy. See how good I am. The hummingbird came to a stop on a stem and turned to look at her thoughtfully. For a second, Ivy was a hummingbird inside. Then—whoosh. The bird zoomed past her head again and disappeared into the blue sky.
The bird zoomed past her head again and disappeared into the blue sky. Ivy was discouraged. The hummingbird hadn’t even noticed her pure heart. Her headband was still in the street and was probably going to get run over. , Liana, and Dino were lined up on the curb across Pancake Court, staring at Ivy. Katy was there, too, sitting on her paper bag, staring. It was distracting. Bean was distracting, too. She was standing beside Ivy on the lawn. She was supposed to be holding up her arms for the birds, but she kept bending down to scratch her legs.
Bean didn’t like the sound of that. 37 A CRUMMY PLAN Bean could not think one more nice thought. She had thought something nice about every single kid in her class. She had wished that there were peace on earth and no more litter—that should make the animals happy— and that everyone had plenty to eat and only things they liked. Not one bird had come anywhere near her. There was sweat dripping out from under her hair. Plus, her arms ached. “Shoot,” said Bean, dropping her arms. ” Ivy dropped her arms, too.