I can’t believe farmer Robinson sold me for 25¢ a pound. Bananas cost more than that!! You can’t tell me I’m not even worth as much as a silly, yellow banana! This wasn’t my day!
After they paid for me, they carried me to their car (which I can tell you, was no limousine), and Mr. Daddy tried to put me into the trunk.
“No,” screamed pipsqueak again, “I wanna’ hold my pumpkin!”
Well at least Margie was on my side this time. I certainly didn’t want to ride in the trunk. I’m not too fond of the dark you know…
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Daddy, “you might drop the pumpkin if we go over a bump!”
“Hold! Hold!! Hold!!!” she yelled, and luckily she got her way too.
Inside the car, Margie was rocking me from side to side, singing some silly song about Halloween and telling me how she was going to carve a face into my side!!!!
If her parents hadn’t been around, I would’ve been happy to tell her the only knife that was ever going to get near me was one that I would be using to enjoy a nice warm roast beef dinner with…
If I weighed 23 pounds at the time this family so rudely took me from my farm, and I cost 25¢/pound, how much did they pay for me? (type your answer without the dollar sign)