Little Oink
by
illustrated by
To the generous soul who has been reading my stuff and encouraging me since we were kids (and who suggested the idea for this book!), I dedicate this to my amazing sister Beth Kaufmann.—A. K. R.
For Jeff—J. C.
Little Oink was a neat little pig.
He liked a lot of things.
He dug playing with his pig pals.
He savored his days at school.
And he relished nighttime with Mama Pig and Papa Pig.
But there was one thing Little Oink did not like:
Mess up time.
Because that’s what you have to do when you’re a pig.
Make a mess, mess, MESS!
“All my friends get to clean their rooms.
Why can’t I?” asked Little Oink.
“If you want to grow up to be a respectable pig, you must learn how to make a proper mess,” said Papa Pig.
“Mess up your room, put on some dirty clothes, and then you can go out and play,” said Mama Pig.
“Do I have to?” Little Oink snorted.
“Yes, you have to,” they retorted.
So off he went.
He unmade his bed.
He unfolded his clothes.
He put on a stained T-shirt.
He threw his towel on the floor.
He dragged in some mud.
“Have I messed up enough?” asked Little Oink.
“I still see toys in their bin, mister.
Please—not another word until this room’s a total pigsty.”
“Fine,” whined the swine.
One toy. Two toys. Three toys. Four toys. Five toys. Six toys. Seven toys. Eight toys. Nine toys. Ten toys.