Enhao Ren is a child author who is a child himself. He was born in Nanjing, China, and has a taste for adventure. He is the author of many of his personal adventure stories, and also likes to write fiction. Surprisingly, he went on a world trip that lasted for 2 years, which made him end up being in other countries for the total time longer than he had ever lived in his homeland. He lives in Scarsdale, New York now and lives with his mother and father.
Ronalds Squeak-Sq, reporting for fun! Whew, I could finally fill out my third out of 100 notebooks placed on my humongous shelf. Ouch! Silly me. I forgot to tell you something exciting. I graduated from preschool. Goodbye, Weaselmentary!
Why, hello for the third time!
Ronalds Squeak-Sq, reporting for fun! Whew, I could finally fill out my third out of 100 notebooks placed on my humongous shelf. Ouch! Silly me. I forgot to tell you something exciting. I graduated from preschool. Goodbye, Weaselmentary!
Yup, it might seem pretty confusing when you should be in first grade when you are six years old. But remember! This is Utteramma Field, the field of weirdness (in your perspective, that is). Here, preschoolers graduate when they are six.
Now, I’m in Kindergarten. So remember to be KINDergarten! Oh, and I almost forgot to put something I just learned from my classmates: LOL!
As you guys already know, my brother and botherer, Carl, is the leader of Utteramma Field’s Squeak Scouts, the boy/girl scouts of your kind.
My father is the Executive Director of Utteramma Field Electricity Institute (UFEI). The UFEI produces electricity to every weasel in town during the Weasel Uprising in 2123, when the Handemolen peeps are protecting every weasel in the world of the TSSA.
Eventually, we smart weasels learned to use human materials, so we used them on our own as well. Back in my family, my mom just took a job as a nurse in Utteramma Field Hospital (UFH) a month ago. With no one in my family guarding me, I had to figure out a way to get a babysitter.
I dialed 167-999-9998 on the weaselphone in my house. A babysitter named Alexia came. Instead of making Mom mad, my Mom was… well, actually proud of me. My dad, on the other hand, wasn’t so amused.
He usually is the most easy-to-get-angry weasel in town, but sometimes, if I finish my homework early, my dad will reward me with three-quarters of an hour of TV time.
Oh, sorry. I forgot we were talking about what happened last — well, let’s say the last time you saw me.* Remember? My troubles with learning the piano with my dad and oversleeping two times in a row and being laughed at?
I hope you didn’t remember, because just thinking about it makes me twitch like crazy. And I mean crazy. Oh, there I go. Finally. Whew! *Oh, and I finally remembered: The last time you saw me was two years ago. Long time no SEA! Hah! LOL! (Again!)
I know you are itching for me to start my story, so here we go!
(Connect the second to last paragraph to this next section.)
Oops, I forgot we were talking about something serious (seriously, I have made that mistake over and over for the last six years, which means my entire lifetime. So far, that is.). So, I made a list of what mistakes to avoid.
Okay, you might think that this list is a little too ambitious. But for a weasel like me, this list is just a little beyond my level.
Oops, I forgot to add something to the list.
There. That’s better. Squeaking about better, school was way better than Weaselmentary, my nursery school. (Sorry, I forgot to add that part into my intro.) No one is bullying me, I’m not having a negative attitude, you name it.
When you were reading that, did your mind think that your brain was playing tricks on you? Well, if you said “yes,” you are completely WRONG! What I was saying to you was the truth. The complete truth.
And — I disobeyed my rule #6. I got carried away again. *SIGH* When would I grow up?! URGH! I disobeyed rule #6 again!!! Ugh. I should have added a 7th rule.
Wow. The list is getting better and better. Now, back to my story.
Well, I couldn’t even concentrate on writing because of all this Utteramma Field afternoon sun. I stayed up all noon writing this. I should be taking my afternoon nap. See ya!
Good morning!* Let’s move on with our story now that we are no longer blinded by the Utteramma Field sun.
*You do remember me making the morning-afternoon mistake in my first book, right? Well, you might have thought I made that mistake again. But nooo… surprisingly, I overslept. I didn’t notice until now. So that’s why I erased “Good afternoon” and put “Good morning” instead.
School was awesome. We learned about math, science, and even the vocabulary word “excited.” We even had some very interesting homework. So turn the page to see my worksheet.
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(jogging)
(eating dessert)
(watching TV)
(Chilling out)
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Ouch! That’s a lot of homework. I’ve also got a math sheet, but this tiny notebook won’t fit that many homework copies for me to glue in. Double Ouch! I always get close calls of being spotted by my dad. He wants me to do homework, not to glue in copies to write a book.
You might be thinking, “Oh, poor little Ronalds!” No, I’m not that poor in the family. I’m just a… er, a neutral guy, that’s it. But there’s just something that’s itching me…
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“Oh, hello, Mr. Poop!” That wasn’t something that made my feelings better. I turned around. Sure enough, it was Carl. “Me, the brave pilot, will be eating Ronalds, the little helpless chickie.” Then, I defended myself using a new “passcode.” The latest passcode was:
But today, a new passcode has formed:
Perfect passcode, as Carl won’t be able to guess it in the five tries I give him. Yup, that’s right. Five tries. Last time, Carl’s guesses were
This time, Carl wasn’t even close. There were no numbers in my passcode, right? Well, all of Carl’s guesses were with numbers. And that’s what I call an Ouch! Goes the Weasel!! LOL!
Arrrgh! I disobeyed my rule #3! Hmmph. And I would call that a double Ouch! Goes the Weasel. Anyway, I really need to calm down here. Let me take a good nap. See you tomorrow then, diary!
Anyway, it had been a long day. I learned to ride my bike: the worst thing ever. My bike always wobbled from side to side. Why, you may ask? Well, it’s because my dad didn’t know there was such thing as training wheels.
Next came an equally bad thing: I had to study* chess and tennis with my dad.
*Know me! You must remember this: remember in my last book, where I was forced to study the piano with my dad as well? Remember how my dad was the worst tutor in the world? REMEMBER?!
That was what I would call an infinite Ouch! Goes the Weasel. Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! Oush! Boush! Burrech! Sorry. You know those times when you say a word too many times, it just sounds all weird? Well, that’s what happened to me. A–BBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!
Arggh! What the hell had just happened?!
Oofy! Owwy! That’s when I had to cover my ears. My dad was screaming.
I blinked again.
Okay, tell me if this is true. Carl was — jumping on my bed, with me in it?! Okay, I must be dreaming. Let me check my eyes.
Okay, I get it. I’m not dreaming. Wait, yes I am…
Hurr? Wait, was I daydreaming? Give me a moment to think about
th_____ =’’’
