Lost and found

When I was five, I got lost in the Grand Canyon.

I was there with my family for summer vacation. We slept in a tent. I slept walked one night and when I woke up, I was by myself deep in the canyon. I was scared. I didn’t know my way back.

I started to cry. I heard, “Hey, what’s wrong?” I looked down and saw an armadillo looking up at me.

I said, “I’m lost.”

The armadillo said, “Are you hungry?”

I said, “Yes, how did you know?”

The armadillo said, “You look hungry.”

The armadillo lead me to a brazen-berry bush. I ate handfuls. They were better than candy.

The armadillo said, “Would you like to meet my family?”

I said, “Yes, that would be nice.”

The armadillo said, “Oh, by the way, I’m Rrrrrrrrrrd.”

I said, “I’m Brooks.”

The armadillo brought me to a cave. Inside were 7 other armadillos. They introduced themselves: Blinkie, Poop-a-doo, Omba-bomba, Wich-a-woo, Slammer, Pillpot, and Ricocheter.

They taught me how to curl up and roll around like a crazy ball.