Lemons said that good writers notice things, and today, while Pip and I carved a jack o’ lantern, I noticed that Pip has fewer freckles in the fall than in the summer and that they are lighter now too. “Wanna play the Homonym Game?” I said. It’s when we make sentences with words that sound the same but mean different things, like NUN and NONE, and CHEWS and CHOOSE, and HAIR and HARE. And BEE and BEA and BE. Pip said, “Not really,” but since she didn’t say “no,” I started. I said, “The FAIRY took a FERRY.” “She had to BURY a BERRY,” Pip replied halfheartedly. “BUT a bee bit her BUTT!” “They DISCUSSED it with DISGUST,” Pip said, then added, “I don’t want to play anymore.” “Oh c’mon,” I pleaded. “The tennis star hoped to CRUSH her CRUSH!” Pip squinted at me and said, “I’m not telling you who my crush is, and I’m not playing anymore.”
