Read Online Mission Unstoppable by Dan Gutman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Dan Gutman
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can you don’t want to throw away?”
“I’m not making a sign for the garbagemen!” he said, exasperated. “You know, last year I was trying to throw away an old beat-up garbage can, but they wouldn’t take it. They didn’t think it was garbage. And now they took my good garbage can that I didn’t want to throw away. I’m telling you, Bridge, you can’t win with these people!”
Coke and Pep silently prayed that they would never become grown-ups.
Their parents turned and faced them, finally realizing there were more important things in life than garbage cans.
“It’s about time you kids got home,” Dr. McDonald said, pulling his children to him in a bear hug.
“What happened to your shirt?” Mrs. McDonald asked Coke.
“It ripped,” Coke replied. It was, technically, the truth. “I had to throw it away.”
“Is that any way to treat your clothes? Shirts don’t grow on trees, you know,” his mother said. “They cost money. You need to take better care of your possessions. Ben, should there be consequences to this?”
Dr. McDonald didn’t like to hear his children being scolded. He always believed you get better results by rewarding good behavior than you do by punishing bad behavior.
“Anything exciting happen at school today?” he asked to change the subject.
“Nope, other than the fact that it burned down,” Coke said.
“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!” Dr. McDonald chortled. “I got that email too. You kids crack me up. Bridge, I’m so glad we decided to have children after all.”
Pep and her mom went inside to prepare dinner, while Dr. McDonald brought Coke around to the side of the RV, which was parked in the driveway.
“We’re heading out first thing in the morning,” he told Coke. “And I have a job for you. I need you to clean the toilet.”
“Why do I have to clean the toilet?” Coke complained. “Why can’t Pep do it?”
“Because you’re a guy,” Dr. McDonald said, “and we guys are disgusting, filthy creatures, right? Besides, which would you rather do: clean the toilet or help Mom cook dinner?”
“I’d rather watch TV,” Coke replied.
“That wasn’t one of the options,” his dad said. “Come on! This is going to be fun! C’mere, I’ll show you how to do a dump.”
Instead of using water to flush, the toilets in RVs use gravity. There’s a holding tank underneath the bowl. When you get to a dump station at a campground, you attach a thick hose to the RV and let the contents of the holding tank fall into a ground inlet that leads to the sewer system. It’s fairly disgusting when you think about it.
So don’t think about it.
Dr. McDonald gave Coke a pair of yellow rubber gloves and showed him how to attach the hose to the connectors below the toilet.
“You want a real tight fit,” he told his son, “or you’re in for a big surprise.”
Dr. McDonald showed Coke which lever he needed to pull to open the valve and which one to pull to flush some water through the system when he was done.
“And that’s how you do a dump,” Dr. McDonald said, packing up the hose again. “Easy as pie.”
“It’s gross, Dad,” Coke said. “We’re going to be essentially driving a Porta-Potty cross-country.”
“It’s completely sanitary and environmentally friendly,” Dr. McDonald told him. “And it’s fun, too! Think about it: a full week’s worth of waste from the four of us can fit in this tank.”
“Nice image, Dad,” Coke remarked.
“Someday they’ll figure out a way to turn human waste into fuel,” Dr. McDonald said, “and we won’t need gasoline anymore. We’ll drive cars powered by our own poop. Can you imagine? The holding tank will also be the gas tank.”
“And when that glorious day comes,” Coke said, “our dependence on foreign oil will be . . . eliminated!”
“Very funny,” Dr. McDonald noted.
When dinner was ready, Coke and his dad washed their hands and charged into the kitchen. They knew this would be their last
“I’m not making a sign for the garbagemen!” he said, exasperated. “You know, last year I was trying to throw away an old beat-up garbage can, but they wouldn’t take it. They didn’t think it was garbage. And now they took my good garbage can that I didn’t want to throw away. I’m telling you, Bridge, you can’t win with these people!”
Coke and Pep silently prayed that they would never become grown-ups.
Their parents turned and faced them, finally realizing there were more important things in life than garbage cans.
“It’s about time you kids got home,” Dr. McDonald said, pulling his children to him in a bear hug.
“What happened to your shirt?” Mrs. McDonald asked Coke.
“It ripped,” Coke replied. It was, technically, the truth. “I had to throw it away.”
“Is that any way to treat your clothes? Shirts don’t grow on trees, you know,” his mother said. “They cost money. You need to take better care of your possessions. Ben, should there be consequences to this?”
Dr. McDonald didn’t like to hear his children being scolded. He always believed you get better results by rewarding good behavior than you do by punishing bad behavior.
“Anything exciting happen at school today?” he asked to change the subject.
“Nope, other than the fact that it burned down,” Coke said.
“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!” Dr. McDonald chortled. “I got that email too. You kids crack me up. Bridge, I’m so glad we decided to have children after all.”
Pep and her mom went inside to prepare dinner, while Dr. McDonald brought Coke around to the side of the RV, which was parked in the driveway.
“We’re heading out first thing in the morning,” he told Coke. “And I have a job for you. I need you to clean the toilet.”
“Why do I have to clean the toilet?” Coke complained. “Why can’t Pep do it?”
“Because you’re a guy,” Dr. McDonald said, “and we guys are disgusting, filthy creatures, right? Besides, which would you rather do: clean the toilet or help Mom cook dinner?”
“I’d rather watch TV,” Coke replied.
“That wasn’t one of the options,” his dad said. “Come on! This is going to be fun! C’mere, I’ll show you how to do a dump.”
Instead of using water to flush, the toilets in RVs use gravity. There’s a holding tank underneath the bowl. When you get to a dump station at a campground, you attach a thick hose to the RV and let the contents of the holding tank fall into a ground inlet that leads to the sewer system. It’s fairly disgusting when you think about it.
So don’t think about it.
Dr. McDonald gave Coke a pair of yellow rubber gloves and showed him how to attach the hose to the connectors below the toilet.
“You want a real tight fit,” he told his son, “or you’re in for a big surprise.”
Dr. McDonald showed Coke which lever he needed to pull to open the valve and which one to pull to flush some water through the system when he was done.
“And that’s how you do a dump,” Dr. McDonald said, packing up the hose again. “Easy as pie.”
“It’s gross, Dad,” Coke said. “We’re going to be essentially driving a Porta-Potty cross-country.”
“It’s completely sanitary and environmentally friendly,” Dr. McDonald told him. “And it’s fun, too! Think about it: a full week’s worth of waste from the four of us can fit in this tank.”
“Nice image, Dad,” Coke remarked.
“Someday they’ll figure out a way to turn human waste into fuel,” Dr. McDonald said, “and we won’t need gasoline anymore. We’ll drive cars powered by our own poop. Can you imagine? The holding tank will also be the gas tank.”
“And when that glorious day comes,” Coke said, “our dependence on foreign oil will be . . . eliminated!”
“Very funny,” Dr. McDonald noted.
When dinner was ready, Coke and his dad washed their hands and charged into the kitchen. They knew this would be their last
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