Chapter One MOST KIDS MY AGE SLEEP in on the weekends. They wake up late, hours after they do on school days, then laze around the house in their pajamas, watching TV and eating cereal. That, at least, is how I imagine it is for most kids. I wouldn't really know, since I'm not most kids. And mostly that's because of my mom, who is... Well, she's a MAD SCIENTIST! But if that's the sort of mad scientist you're picturing, I've got news for you. You're a bit mistaken. Mom? She's more like this : MAD SCIENTIST! Though that hasn't prevented her from blowing up our refrigerator, causing a lightning storm in our living room, or making a homemade "time portal" and then accidentally sending the two of us (plus my pet turtle, Fred) about seventy million years back in time. But back to sleeping in. Or not sleeping in, in my case. On the morning in question I was woken up bright and early by a bunch of bangs and clatters. But something about these particular bangs and clatters seemed strange. It wasn't the usual racket coming from down in the basement, a space which Mom quickly converted into her laboratory once we moved to this new town and into this new house a few months ago. These bangs and clatters seemed to be coming from somewhere closer. From the kitchen --a room that Mom hardly ever spent time in (except for that day when she blew up the fridge, obviously). Was my mom, I wondered, attempting to cook something? I tossed aside my sheets and leapt out of bed. Then, after scooping Fred up out of his terrarium, I raced out of my bedroom and headed for the kitchen. Because my mom? Let's just say I trust her to operate a time portal way more than I do a frying pan. Excerpted from No More Mr. Mice Guy by Jarrett Lerner All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
