I guessed that the effects of my dumb spell would be over by now. I guessed that Peter would
be his cheerful, talkative, pesty self again.
I guessed wrong.
He stumbled into the kitchen still in his blue striped pajamas. His hair was unbrushed. It stood straight up in back. He squinted at me through his
glasses, as if he didn’t recognize me.
“Hel-lo,” I said. “Aren’t you forgetting about a little something? Like school?”
He frowned and rubbed his cheek. “What day is it?”
“Monday,” I said. “Here. Pick a cereal. Have your breakfast, then go up and get dressed.”
I had pulled three boxes of cereal from the cabinet. But I knew Peter would choose Golden Grahams. That’s the only cereal he ever eats.
He walked over to the counter and stared from box to box.