By: Judy Blume

Paperback

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Living with his little brother, Fudge, makes Peter Hatcher feel like a fourth grade nothing. Whether Fudge is throwing a temper tantrum in a shoe store, smearing smashed potatoes on walls at Hamburger Heaven, or scribbling all over Peter's homework, he's never far from trouble. He's a two-year-old terror who gets away with everything and Peter's had enough. When Fudge walks off with Dribble, Peter's pet turtle, it's the last straw. Peter has put up with Fudge too long. How can he get his parents to pay attention to him for a change?

About The Author

Judy Blume spent her childhood in Elizabeth, New Jersey, making up stories inside her head. She has spent her adult years in many places, doing the same thing, only now she writes her stories down on paper. Adults as well as children will recognize such Blume titles as: Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret; Superfudge; Blubber; Just As Long As We're Together; and Forever. She has also written the novels Wifey, Smart Women, and her latest, Summer Sisters, the New York Times No. 1 bestseller. More than 75 million copies of her books have been sold, and her work has been translated into twenty-something languages. She receives thousands of letters a month from readers of all ages who share their feelings and concerns with her.

Blume is probably better known for her almost teenage girls's stories but these two, featuring nine-year-old Peter and his younger brother, are just as accurate as portraits of American childhood. Peter is not yet worried about the classic Blume territory of sex and relationships, he has more than enough problems dealing with his little brother. At two-and-a-half, Fudge (short for Farley Drexel) is every brother's nightmare. He gets all the attention and hardly ever gets told off, even when he manages to eat Peter's pet turtle. Their mother is more worried about Fudge's health than the fate of the turtle, much to Peter's disgust! Peter also has to cope with Fudge messing up his homework, his parents deciding to move to another city, friendships old and new, trying to run away from home and yet another younger sibling in the shape of Tootsie. Blume's characters leap off the page and even if you don't know any children from New York, you'll recognize many universal traits. Although written in the late 1970s, the stories don't date as the trials and rewards of growing up remain the same. Perfect for children capable of reading by themselves, but probably even more fun to read aloud, especially if you remember them from first time round. (Kirkus UK)

The Big Winner I won Dribble at Jimmy Fargo's birthday party. All the other guys got to take home goldfish in little plastic bags. I won him because I guessed there were three hundred and forty-eight jelly beans in Mrs. Fargo's jar. Really, there were four hundred and twenty-three, she told us later. Still, my guess was closest. 'Peter Warren Hatcher is the big winner!' Mrs. Fargo announced. At first I felt bad that I didn't get a goldfish too. Then Jimmy handed me a glass bowl. Inside there was some water and three rocks. A tiny green turtle was sleeping on the biggest rock. All the other guys looked at their goldfish. I knew what they were thinking. They wished they could have tiny green turtles too.

I named my turtle Dribble while I was walking home from Jimmy's party. I live at 25 West 68th Street. It's an old apartment building. But it's got one of the best elevators in New York City. There are mirrors all around. You can see yourself from every angle. There's a Soft, cushioned bench to sit on if you're too tired to stand. The elevator operator's name is Henry Bevelheimer. He lets us call him Henry because Bevelheimer's very hard to say.

Our apartment's on the twelfth floor. But I don't have to tell Henry. He already knows. He knows everybody in the building. He's that smart! He even knows I'm nine and in fourth grade.

I showed him Dribble right away. I won him at a birthday party,' I said.

Henry smiled. 'Your mother's going to be surprised.'

Henry was right. My mother was really surprised. Her mouth opened when I said, 'Just look at what I won at Jimmy Fargo's birthday party.' I held up my tiny green turtle. 'I've already named him . . . Dribble! Isn't that a great name for a turtle?'

My mother made a face. 'I don't like the way he smells,' she said.

'What do you mean?' I asked. I put my nose right down close to him. I didn't smell anything but turtle. So Dribble smells like turtle, I thought. Well, he's supposed to. That's what he is!

'And I'm not going to take care of him either,' my mother added.

'Of course you're not,' I told her. 'He's my turtle. And I'm the one who's going to take care of him.'

'You're going to change his water and clean out his bowl and feed him and all of that?' she asked.

'Yes,' I said. 'And even more. I'm going to see to it that he's happy!'

This time my mother made a funny noise. Like a groan.

I went into. my bedroom. I put Dribble on top of my dresser. I tried to pet him and tell him he would be happy living with me. But it isn't easy to pet a turtle. They aren't soft and furry and they don't lick you or anything. Still, I had my very own pet at last.

Later, when I sat down at the dinner table, my mother said, 'I smell turtle. Peter, go and scrub your hands!'

Some people might think that my mother is my biggest problem. She doesn't like turtles and she's always telling me to scrub my hands. That doesn't mean just run them under the water. Scrub means I'm supposed to use soap and rub my hands together. Then I've got to rinse and dry them. I ought to know by now. I've heard it enough!

But my mother isn't my biggest problem. Neither is my father. He spends a lot of time watching commercials on TV. That's because he's in the advertising business. These days his favorite commercial is the one about Juicy-O. He wrote it himself. And the president of -the Juicy-O company liked it so much he sent my father a whole crate of Juicy-O for our family to drink. It tastes like a combination of oranges, pineapples, grapefruits, pears, and bananas. (And if you want to know the truth, I'm getting pretty sick of drinking it.) But Juicy-O isn't my biggest problem either.

My biggest problem is my brother, Farley Drexel Hatcher. He's two-and-a-half years old. Everybody calls him Fudge. I feel sorry for him if he's going to grow up with a name like Fudge, but I don't say a word. It's none of my business.

Fudge is always in my way. He messes up everything he sees. And when he gets mad he throws himself flat on the floor and he screams. And he kicks. And he bangs his fists. The only time I really like him is when he's sleeping. He sucks four fingers on his left hand and makes a slurping noise.

When Fudge saw Dribble he said, 'Ohhhhh see!'

And I said, 'That's my turtle, get it? Mine! You don't touch him.'

Fudge said, 'No touch.' Then he laughed like crazy.

ISBN: 9780330398176
ISBN-10: 0330398172
Series: Fudge Ser.
Audience: Children
Format: Paperback
Language: English
Number Of Pages: 128
Published: 15th March 2003
Dimensions (cm): 19.7 x 13.0  x 0.9
Weight (kg): 0.092