Sam the Man & the Chicken Plan

A Job for Sam
Sam Graham wanted a job.

Everyone else in his family had a job. His dad did something with computers, and his mom did something with clients, and his sister, Annabelle, who was twelve, mowed lawns.

“Twenty bucks a pop,” Annabelle said when she came home from a job, sweaty and flecked with little bits of grass. “Hard to beat.”

“What can I do for twenty bucks a pop?” Sam asked his mom.

“There aren’t many jobs for seven-year-olds,” his mom said. “I’ll give you a dollar to clean your room.”

Sam didn’t want a job that only paid one buck a pop.

Besides, his room didn’t need cleaning.

When Mrs. Kerner stopped by to see if Annabelle would take care of her chickens while she was away, Annabelle said she couldn’t do it.

“I have three lawns to mow this weekend,” she told Mrs. Kerner. “Hate to say it, but there’s no time for chickens.”

Sam raced over to Mrs. Kerner. He waved his arms in the air. “I’ll take care of your chickens!”

“You’re only seven,” Mrs. Kerner said. “Seven-year-olds don’t know the first thing about chickens.”

“I know they lay eggs,” Sam said, holding up one finger.

“I know they like to be around other chickens,” he added, holding up a second finger.

He tried to think of one more thing he had learned on the second-grade field trip to the farm.

Aha! He held up a third finger. “I know their poop is good for the garden.”

“Don’t say ‘poop,’ ” said Mrs. Kerner.

“I like the way it sounds,” said Sam.

“Still,” said Mrs. Kerner. “Still and all.”

She looked at Sam for a long time. “You know a lot about chickens. But you’re awfully small.”

“I’m bigger than a raccoon,” said Sam.

“I despise raccoons,” said Mrs. Kerner.

“Me too,” said Sam.

“Okay, then,” said Mrs. Kerner. “I think we can work together.”