Those Darn Squirrels

From a distance, they look like the fluorescent yellow-green tennis balls. Up close, the black walnut spheres are pocked and marred. The neighborhood squirrels horde them, storing them in our hockey net, the landscaping rocks, along the house. They had five lined up in the gutter when I came home from work. Imagining their adventures in retrieving them and hiding them is as rewarding as actually watching them try to get to the precious nutmeat!

Old Man Fookwire in Adam Rubin's Those Darn Squirrels would not enjoy watching my neighborhood squirrels. In fact, he only wants to protect his bird feeders from the crafty creatures. The first and second graders love this book. They point and giggle, whisper and chant. They laugh at the full-bellied squirrels resting on tree branches. When Old Man Fookwire thinks his favorite birds have returned early from migration, they say, "Those aren't birds. They're squirrels." They glance occasionally at the squirrel puppet on my right hand that nods, points, cheers, and shows them details in the artwork. After Old Man Fookwire lifts his fist at the end and says, "Those darn squirrels!" in a friendlier manner, the children ask if they can have the book.