What the little boy and his big dog want to do is go swimming, and by gosh they will whether mother takes them or not. When...

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WE NEVER GET TO DO ANYTHING

What the little boy and his big dog want to do is go swimming, and by gosh they will whether mother takes them or not. When they run off she attaches his sunsuit to the clothesline, but anyone can slip out of a sunsuit. . . though no one can pass down the street naked and unnoticed. Fetched home again--""Lucky fish!"" in a tank, ""Lucky dog!"" under a hydrant, ""Lucky birds!"" in a birdbath--his hopes rise and fall: Daddy is building a sandbox not a swimming pool. But a rainstorm, some fast shoveling and heavy moving plus a discharging downspout fix that: ""Adam! Where are you?"" calls his mother from the window. ""You'll get wet!"" To which the incumbent reply is ""Lucky me!"" Another of Martha Alexander's perfectly calibrated upendings, and perfectly natural too when Adam sets forth as innocently unclothed as his namesake.

Pub Date: Sept. 30, 1970

ISBN: N/A

Page Count: -

Publisher: Dial

Review Posted Online: N/A

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Sept. 1, 1970

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