Transcription
Iana iguana by Karen Kaufman orof illustrated by David ketro genre realistic fiction tells a madeup story that could really happen. Read this story to find out if Alex can persuade his mom to let him have an iguana.
Question of the week: How do you know if a solution is a good solution?
Dear Mom, I know you don't think I should have Mikey's baby iguana when he moves, but here's why I should. If I don't take it, he goes to Stinky's, and Stinky's dog Lurch will eat it. You don't want that to happen, do you? Signed, your sensitive son, Alec.
Dear Alex, I'm glad you're so compassionate, but I doubt that Stinky's mother will let Lurch get into the iguana's cage. Nice try though. Love, Mom.
Dear Mom, Did you know that iguanas are really quiet, and they're cute too? I think they are much cuter than than hamsters. Love, your adorable son, Alex.
Dear Alex, Tarantulas are quiet too, but I wouldn't want one as a pet. By the way, that iguana of Mikey's is uglier than Godzilla. Just thought I'd mention it. Love, Mom.
Dear Mom, You would never even have to see the iguana. I'll keep his cage in my room on the dresser next to my soccer trophies. Plus, he's so small, I bet you'll never even know he's there. Love and a zillion in one kisses, Alex.
Dear Alex, Iguanas can grow to be over 6 ft long. You won't have enough space in your whole room, much less on your dresser, with or without your trophies. Look, Mom.
Dear Mom, It takes 15 years for an iguana to get that big. Mikey told me I'll be married by then and probably living in my own house. Love, your smart and mature kid, Alex.
Dear Alex, How are you going to get a girl to marry you when you own a 6 foot long reptile? Love, your concerned Mother.
Dear Mom, Forget the girl. I need a new friend now. This iguana can be the brother I've always wanted. Love, your lonely child, Alex.
Dear Alex, You have a brother. Love, Mom.
Dear Mom, I know I have a brother, but he's just a baby. What fun is that? If I had an iguana, I could teach it tricks and things. Ethan doesn't do tricks, he just burps. Love, gross out Alex.
Dear Alex, How do I know you're ready for a pet? Remember what happened when you took home the class fish? Love, Mom.
Dear Mom, If I knew the fish was going to jump into the spaghetti sauce, I never would have taken the cover off the jar. Love, your son who has learned his lesson. P.S. Iguanas don't like spaghetti.
Dear Alex, Let's say I let you have the iguana on a trial basis. What exactly would you do to take care of it? Love, Mom.
Dear Mom, I would feed him every day. He eats lettuce, and I would make sure he had enough water, and I would clean his cage when it got messy. Love, responsible Alex. P.S. What's a trial basis?
Dear Alex, A trial basis means Dad and I see how well you take care of him for a week or two before we decide if you can have him forever. Remember, Stinky and Lurch are waiting. Love, Mom. P.S. If you clean his cage as well as you clean your room, you're in trouble.
Dear Mom, I'll really, really, really try to clean my room and the iguana's cage. Also, listen to this: I'll pay for the lettuce with my allowance. I mean, how much can one baby iguana eat anyway? Love, Alex the financial wizard.
Are you sure you want to do this, Alex? Yes, Mom. I want an iguana. [Music] Please.
Dear Alex, Look on your dresser. Love, Mom. Yes. Thank you. Thank you.