By Lenore Look
Here's the 3rd booklet within the hilarious Alvin Ho bankruptcy e-book sequence, that's a Kirkus Reviews top carrying on with Series.
Alvin Ho again and his worst worry has come real: he has to move tenting. What will he do uncovered within the desolate tract with bears and darkness and . . . pit bathrooms? fortunately, he’s acquired his night-vision goggles and water purifying drugs and super-duper heavy-duty flashlight to maintain him secure. And he’s obtained his dad, too.
Lenore Look’s touching, drop-dead-funny bankruptcy e-book approximately an Asian-American moment grader—with illustrations via New York instances bestselling illustrator LeUyen Pham—is excellent for starting and reluctant readers alike, and has hundreds boy appeal.
From the Hardcover edition.
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Extra resources for Alvin Ho: Allergic to Camping, Hiking, and Other Natural Disasters
Then you'll have to put up with the old klets again. But just now, Louie, I want to ask you. You have expressed doubts. " We stood in a frozen circle, waiting. Louie's face lost its expression, and his head rolled back toward the wall. Fearing he was slipping into unconsciousness again, my mother pressed in and bent closely over him. A long, quivering sigh shook him from head to foot, a moan ask ing that he be left in peace. "It's Moeke, Louie," she said. " The rolling motion of his head became a negative shake.
A noise made me turn and see in the kitchen window a mustached apparition watching us in clear moonlight, gesticulating with an air of detached, underwater suffer ing. I was off with the speed of a deer. I ran the half-mile home, where the counterpart in parental vigil awaited me. I carried my shoes up the in side stairway to the second floor of the frame two-flat where we lived, and hearing a noise behind the closed door, put them on again. I entered with my shoelaces tinkling. "Hello, Moeke," I said, reaching for my cap, to find the peak still behind.
Easy now, boy," he said, as I waded inch by inch across the six feet or so that separated us. I never got to him. Halfway there, my own foot encountered an obstruction, and I found my self standing on something metallic and flat, perhaps the side of a perambulator, or a bed-end. Thus we both had adequate support from which to witness what happened next. We had had to call to one another (and my father to the Lord ) above the noise of the truck, the engine of which had all this time continued to run.