Attaboy, Sam!

Attaboy, Sam!

5.0 7
by Lois Lowry
     
 

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Why won't Sam Krupnik allow his mother to enter his bedroom? Why has he started calling his toy box The Lab? And why does he carry a Ziplock bag in his pocket al all times? What's the big secret? Well, his mother's birthday is approaching, and she has told her family that what she really wants are homemade gifts. Sam has decided to invent

Overview


Why won't Sam Krupnik allow his mother to enter his bedroom? Why has he started calling his toy box The Lab? And why does he carry a Ziplock bag in his pocket al all times? What's the big secret? Well, his mother's birthday is approaching, and she has told her family that what she really wants are homemade gifts. Sam has decided to invent a special, surprise perfume just for her--a concoction that will combine all of her favorite smells. Now the question is: Exactly how does one go about bottling the quirky collection of scents on Mrs. Krupnik's list of favorites? If anyone can find a way--or at least have loads of fun trying--it's Sam, Anastasia's precocious younger borther.

Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher

"Warm, lively, true to children's real inner lives, and laugh-aloud funny all the way." Kirkus Reviews with Pointers
Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly
In this high-spirited and generally funny novel, Anastasia Krupnik's younger brother displays her enterprising spirit--and her propensity for disaster. For his mother's birthday, Sam determines to concoct a special perfume by combining her favorite smells: his father's pipe, chicken soup and freshly washed hair, to name a few. The resulting hideous brew is uncorked in a waggish scene that resists the obvious moral (``It's the thought that counts'') and concentrates instead on the value of enjoying a good chuckle at oneself. Sam's generosity and naivete, along with his relationship with Anastasia, add palpable warmth. The book's humor, however, is not consistently focused. On the whole, it seems geared to readers at the lower end of the age range, those young enough to identify with a preschooler's mistakes. But other elements--in particular, a subplot concerning an awkward poem Anastasia is writing--are better suited to older readers. Ages 7-12. (Apr.)
School Library Journal
Gr 4-6-- Mrs. Krupnik insists she wants only homemade gifts for her birthday--except for a new bottle of her favorite perfume. When it turns out the fragrance is no longer available, Sam rises to the occasion with a concoction of his own invention. After all, he knows all his mother's favorite smells and has all of a week to collect them. By week's end, Sam's surprise is bubbling and brewing--and fouling the air of his bedroom--and his enthusiasm wanes. Meanwhile, Anastasia and her father are having second thoughts about their own offerings. Can this birthday be saved? Yes, hilariously, as Lowry succeeds where others might fail in taking each carefully contrived scenario one step beyond its predictable outcome. Readers may well anticipate the results of Sam's attempts to collect that ``new baby'' aroma, but it's the essence of baking bread that proves the salient ingredient of the noxious brew. And readers all know that the boy will somehow manage to keep the gray kitten his father is allergic to, but it's serendipity and not the relenting of adoring parents that allows it to happen. While Lowry snags readers with her teasing style, exaggeration, and gimmickery, she holds them with an unerring sense of humor and a sure sense of her audience. Attagirl, Lois! --Marcia Hupp, Mamaroneck Public Library, NY
Children's Literature - Suzanne Javid
Meet Sam Krupnik, the four-year old precocious brother of thirteen-year-old Anastasia. He’s looking forward to his Mom’s birthday. All she wants for her birthday is a new bottle of her favorite perfume and homemade gifts—nothing fancy she tells her family. Little did she know her perfume was no longer available until Dad announced the bad news. Sam was already making her a birthday card at nursery school but thought of a homemade gift he could also make. She needed new perfume and Sam was sure he knew all of Mom’s favorite smells. It probably would take about a week to collect all the smells, put them together, and finish just in time for her birthday. What a surprise that would be! A special perfume for Mom invented by Sam Krupnik! This story is funny, entertaining and at times hilarious, allowing the reader visual imagery of the happenings. Younger readers will relate to the antics of Sam while older readers will enjoy the author’s ability to capture the feelings and imagination with a true child’s voice. The story is told in eleven chapters, with pencil drawings and a few full-page illustrations. Although a Table of Contents is not included, all pages are consistently numbered. This is the second book of the “Sam Krupnik” series, following All About Sam. Other titles are Zooman and See You Around, Sam!, which is sneak-previewed at the end of the story. Wonderful and delightful. Reviewer: Suzanne Javid; Ages 7 to 10.

Product Details

ISBN-13:
9780544582361
Publisher:
Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
Publication date:
01/05/2016
Pages:
160
Sales rank:
502,601
Product dimensions:
5.10(w) x 7.40(h) x 0.50(d)
Age Range:
7 - 10 Years

Read an Excerpt


1
S*A*M
 
What on earth are you doing, Sam?” Mrs. Krupnik stood in the doorway staring at her son. Sam looked up.
 
 Moms are sometimes very strange, he thought. They always ask what you are doing, even though they can see what you are doing.
 
 Once, when he was younger and naughtier, Sam had found it interesting to unroll toilet paper. He knew that he wasn’t supposed to. But every time he wandered past the bathroom and glanced in and saw that roll of paper hanging there, with its end dangling in a tantalizing way, he couldn’t seem to stop himself. He would have to go in and unroll it. If he got it going just right, he could twirl the roll around very fast, and the paper would go all over the floor, and it was wonderfully interesting to him.
 
 And always, whenever he did that, his mom would appear in the bathroom doorway and say, “Sam! What on earth are you doing?”
 
 He could never figure it out. What did she think he was doing—taking a bath? Brushing his teeth?
 
 Today, though, he wasn’t unrolling toilet paper. He was much too old to do a baby thing like that.
 
 Today he wasn’t even in the bathroom. He was in the study. His dad’s study. He looked over at his mother, who was still in the doorway. Then he said patiently, even though he was quite certain she knew exactly what he was doing, “I’m typing.”
 
 She came across the room and stood behind him, looking down over his shoulder. “My goodness,” she said. “You really are!”
 
 Good, she didn’t sound angry. She sounded surprised.
 
 Sam didn’t know why his mom would be surprised that he was typing. His father’s typewriter, here in the study, was a fascinating thing. And his dad had shown him, once, how you rolled in a piece of paper and then pushed the keys with letters on them.
 
“I typed my name,” Sam told her with pride.
 
And he had. sam sam sam
 
He had made some mistakes, of course, since it was his first try at typing. One of his sams had come out sal and another said wam.
 
But he was getting better at it.
 
 “Look,” he said. Very carefully, with his tongue wedged between his teeth, he typed mom. Then he rolled the paper a bit in order to start in a fresh place.
 
“Attaboy, Sam!” his mother said. “You’re an absolutely amazing son!”
 
 Mrs. Krupnik pulled up a chair beside Sam and showed him all sorts of interesting things: how to make big letters, so that he could type SAM instead of just sam. How to make little stars, *****, so that he could now type S*A*M and M*O*M.
 
 She showed him how to make a sideways smiling face:
 
: )
 
 Then Sam figured out, all by himself, how to make a sideways grumpy face:
 
: (
 
 And together he and his mom discovered how to do a sideways winking smiling face:
 
; )
 
 Finally, when the page was filled, Sam took it out of the typewriter and gave it to his mother.
 
 “That’s fabulous, Sam,” she said. “I’ll stick it on the bulletin board in the kitchen. Now, how about lunch? I cooked some hot dogs.”
 
 Sam trotted behind her down the hall to the kitchen and watched with pride while she thumbtacked his typing paper to the bulletin board next to a painting of a rainbow he had done in school.
 
 “I want mustard on my hot dog,” he said. “Yellow mustard, not brown. And ketchup. And also I want a pickle, and three cookies, and I want chocolate in my milk, and after that, an apple.”
 
 His mother, smiling, arranged all of those things in front of him on the kitchen table. As Sam began to eat, he glanced over at the refrigerator door, where his magnetic plastic letters had lived for months. SAM, they said, in yellow and green, and LOOK in red and blue.
 
 It was the magnetic letters (helped along by his mom, dad, and big sister) that had taught him the sounds of the letters.
 
 “After lunch,” Sam announced, “I’m going to take all my letters off the refrigerator and throw them away.”
 
 “Throw them away? Why?” Mrs. Krupnik asked.
 
 Sam thought about it. He made a new decision. “No, not throw them away,” he said. “I’ll give them to babies. Maybe to the kids at my nursery school. Because now that I’m a typer, I don’t need baby stuff like those letters anymore.”
 
 “Gosh,” his mother said, “if you’re so grown up that you don’t want your plastic letters anymore, maybe we should think about giving away your toys, too. Maybe, instead of your Matchbox cars and your Lego set, you’d rather have a briefcase and a box of cigars.”
 
 Sam thought about that. He pictured how it would be to show up at nursery school some morning carrying a briefcase and smoking a cigar. Maybe he would take a bottle of beer, too.
 
 It sounded like a great idea. But he had a feeling that Mrs. Bennett, his nursery school teacher, wouldn’t like it much. She’d probably say, “Time out, Sam,” and he would have to sit in the big green chair, drinking his beer and smoking his cigar all alone while the other kids were doing something fun, like fingerpainting with chocolate syrup or spelling their names in macaroni.
 
He smeared the ketchup and mustard together along the top of his hot dog with one finger. Then he licked his finger carefully.
 
 “No,” he said. “I think I’ll keep my toys for a while.”
 
 “Good,” his mother said. “I’m glad you decided that, because I hate the smell of cigars.”
 
 “Not pipes, though,” Sam pointed out. “You don’t hate the smell of pipes, do you?” He tried holding his hot dog like a pipe, but it bent in the middle.
 
 “Well, no,” his mother admitted, laughing. “I wish your dad didn’t smoke at all, because it’s bad for him. But I do love the smell of his pipe. As a matter of fact, I think I can smell it right now, coming up the back porch steps. Dad and Anastasia must be home from the store.”
 
 “Hi, guys,” Sam’s sister, Anastasia, said as she entered the kitchen. She set a grocery bag on top of the washing machine and went to hang up her jacket.
 
“I hope you made more of those hot dogs,” Sam’s dad said. He put his two grocery bags on the counter beside the refrigerator. “Shopping makes me hungry. I bought a whole lot of stuff we don’t even need just because I was hungry.”
 
 Mrs. Krupnik groaned as she peered into one of the bags. She made a face. “Frozen enchiladas?” she asked. “That wasn’t on my list.”
 
 Sam’s dad shrugged. “They looked good,” he said. “I told you: I was hungry, and I lost control.”
 
 Mrs. Krupnik sighed, wedged the frozen enchiladas into the freezer beside the ice cube trays, and prepared hot dogs for Mr. Krupnik and Anastasia.
 
 “Bad news,” Mr. Krupnik announced when he was seated at the table and had decorated his hot dog with mustard.
 
 Sam wiggled in his chair and listened intently. Sam loved bad news. It was always much more interesting than good news. Sometimes, usually at breakfast, he listened when his parents read newspaper headlines aloud to each other.
 
Good news was boring, like: “Harvard Physicist Wins Nobel Prize.” Sam didn’t even know what that meant, though his parents seemed to, and even Anastasia, who was thirteen, squealed, “Hey, that’s Norman Berkowitz’s father!” Ho-hum, thought Sam.
 
 But bad news was something else. Bad news was like: “Train Crash Injures 47.” Or: “Bridge Collapse Leaves Terrified Motorists Stranded.” Sam always listened carefully to bad news; it was just as good as listening to Mrs. Bennett read a scary story about monsters. It made you shiver a little.
 
 “What is it? What’s the bad news?” Sam asked, since his dad was chewing his hot dog and had forgotten to tell.
 
 “Well,” Mr. Krupnik said sadly, “This morning I went to Lord and Taylor’s to get your mother some perfume for her birthday—”
 
 Anastasia interrupted him with a giggle. “Dad hates going to Lord and Taylor’s!”
 
 “That’s true,” Mr. Krupnik acknowledged. “But I did it, Katherine, because your birthday is coming, and I went to the perfume department, which is the worst, in terms of geography.”
 
 “Why?” Sam asked. “What’s worst about it?”
 
 Anastasia explained to her brother. “In order to get to the perfume department, you have to walk through Lingerie and Night-gowns. Dad hates that.”
 
“Is that the bad news? What’s lingerie?”
 
 “Underpants and bras,” Anastasia explained impatiently. “Dad hates walking through underpants and bras.”
 
Sam shrugged. It didn’t seem like such a big deal, walking through underpants and bras. He would do it if he had to. Sometimes he did do it, in the kitchen, when the laundry was on the floor in front of the washing machine. He walked through underpants, and bras, and nightgowns, and T-shirts, and blue jeans, and everything else, and he thought it was fun.
 
 “What is the bad news, Myron?” his mother asked.
 
“No more Je Reviens,” Mr. Krupnik said sadly. “I was going to get you some for your birthday, but the salesgirl said that they don’t carry it anymore.”
 
 “Oh, no!” Sam’s mother wailed. “That’s the only perfume I’ve worn for years!”
 
 “Don’t worry, Mom, we can find you some other perfume. Maybe it’s time for a change anyway,” Anastasia said reassuringly.
 
 Sam almost yawned, he was so bored. “I’m done,” he said. “Can I be excused?”
 
 “May I be excused,” his mother corrected automatically. “Yes, you may. Let me wipe your hands; they’re all mustardy.” She reached across the table with her napkin and wiped the bright yellow smears from Sam’s hands.
 
 Sam wandered out of the kitchen while his parents and sister were still talking about perfume. He began thinking about birthdays. His mother’s birthday was next week.
 
 She had told the whole family that she really truly didn’t want fancy gifts for her birthday—except for a new bottle of perfume, because her old one was almost empty. What she really wanted, Katherine Krupnik had announced, was homemade things. She liked those best. She still had, in the studio attached to their house where she worked on illustrations for children’s books, a little clay paperweight that Anastasia had made for her years before.
 
 So Sam was making her a card at nursery school. It was purple construction paper, and he was pasting gold hearts on it; inside, he planned to write MOM and SAM and LOVE, and maybe he would also write HAPPY BIRTHDAY if there was room and if Mrs. Bennett would spell it for him. And probably, too, he would draw a dinosaur.
 
 He knew that Anastasia was planning to bake a cake and that she would let him help frost it and set up the candles.
 
 But now, climbing the stairs to his room, where he had been working for several days setting up a complicated speedway for his cars and trucks, Sam began thinking about perfume.
 
 His mom needed new perfume. She wanted new perfume. But the store didn’t have the kind she wanted. They didn’t make her kind anymore.
 
 But I could, Sam thought. I’m probably the only person in the world who knows all of Mom’s favorite smells. If I start collecting them now and putting them together, it would take me about a week, and then, just in time for her birthday, I would finish. What a surprise! A special perfume, invented by Sam Krupnik!
 
 Shaking his head in amazement at what a wonderful idea he had had, Sam entered his bedroom. He knelt on the floor by his speedway and halfheartedly moved a dump truck from one place to another, making room for an ambulance to enter from a side road.
 
 But he wasn’t really thinking about his speedway at all. He was thinking about how to begin his perfume. He remembered his mother saying, just a few minutes earlier, “I love the smell of your dad’s pipe.”
 
 Pipe smell would be the starting place. He would start as soon as no one was looking, because it was going to be a surprise.
 
 Sam grinned. Attaboy, Sam, he said to himself with satisfaction.

Meet the Author

Lois Lowry is the author of more than thirty books for young adults, including the popular Anastasia Krupnik series. She has received countless honors, among them the Boston Globe-Horn Book Award, the Dorothy Canfield Fisher Award, the California Young Reader’s Medal, and the Mark Twain Award. She received Newbery Medals for two of her novels, NUMBER THE STARS and THE GIVER. Her first novel, A SUMMER TO DIE, was awarded the International Reading Association’s Children’s Book Award. Ms. Lowry now divides her time between Cambridge and an 1840s farmhouse in Maine. To learn more about Lois Lowry, see her website at www.loislowry.com.

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Attaboy Sam 5 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 7 reviews.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Asshat
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I love this book i have also read all of the anastasia books by the way my name is anastasia
Guest More than 1 year ago
I really liked the book. I like The birthday surprise he gives his mother.It is really humorus too.
Guest More than 1 year ago
well i had to read mine for my class and i love it! i thought it was so cute how sam wantsto make his mom some perfuem with all the things she lovs
Guest More than 1 year ago
I read this book as a break during dead week, just before final exams, and I was laughing so hard that my husband came wandering into the living room to find out what was so funny. In her usual entertaining fashion, Lois Lowry has woven a tale of a loving family and their efforts to make each other happy. It's hilarious!!
Guest More than 1 year ago
I would reccommend this book for kids of all ages. If you like to make presents for your family members, this is a great book for you. I couldn`t put this book down when I was reading it.