Stop Hounding Me by Becky Crookham

“Stop hounding me! The answer is still no.” his mother said. “Please?” he asked again. “No! Now go clean your room.” “If I clean my room can I go?” “No.” “Then I’m not cleaning my room.” He crossed his arms. He followed her into the kitchen. She began loading the dishwasher–his job–while he searched the...

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