by Brenda Clark
“Perhaps Harriet could sleep with Sam just this once,” she suggested.
Franklin didn’t like that one bit. But he didn’t want Harriet to cry again either.
“All right,” he sighed. “Only for tonight.”
The next morning, Harriet brought Sam to breakfast.
“Thanks, Harriet,” said Franklin, reaching for his dog.
But Harriet clung tightly to Sam.
Franklin tugged on Sam’s tail. Harriet tugged back.
“He’s mine!” said Franklin.
“No, mine!” shouted Harriet.
They pushed and pulled until something terrible happened.
Sam’s tail ripped right off.
Franklin and Harriet started to cry.
“Oh, dear,” said their mother.
“Can you fix him?” asked Franklin.
“I’ll try,” she answered.
Franklin gave Harriet a nasty look.
Franklin’s mother used small, careful stitches to put Sam back together again.
“Good as new!” she said.
Franklin put a bandage on Sam’s tail and gave him a big hug.
Harriet tried to hug Sam, too, but Franklin held Sam up high so she couldn’t reach him.
“It would be nice if you shared Sam,” said Franklin’s mother.
Franklin didn’t think it would be nice at all. He held Sam tightly and stomped off to his room.
Franklin decided that being a big brother could be a big problem.
Harriet cried a lot. She needed to be watched every minute. Sometimes she was stinky.
And worst of all, she thought that Sam was hers.
So Franklin did what any big brother would do. He put Sam in the toy box at the back of the cupboard, where Harriet couldn’t find him.
Later, Franklin’s mother asked if he wanted to go for a walk.
“Is Harriet coming?” asked Franklin.
His mother nodded.
Franklin sighed. But he got ready to go because he liked walks.
Harriet put on her coat upside down and backwards.
“That looks silly,” sniffed Franklin. His mother laughed and helped Harriet with her coat.
On their walk, Franklin picked a bouquet of dandelions for his mother.
“Thank you,” she said. “They’re lovely.”
Just then, Harriet grabbed the flowers.
“No, Harriet,” said Franklin. “Those aren’t yours.”
Franklin’s mother smiled. “Harriet is still little,” she said. “She needs to learn how to share.”
Franklin’s mother took some of the flowers and tucked them into her hat.
Harriet put her flowers into her mouth.
Franklin hoped they tasted terrible.
They walked for a long time.
Harriet began to rub her eyes and yawn. Then she got cranky.
Franklin’s mother gave Harriet her blanket, a cookie and some juice.
But nothing made Harriet happy. She started to cry. She got louder and louder.
“Too bad Sam’s not here,” said Franklin. “He could make her stop crying.”
Then Franklin had an idea. He put Harriet’s blanket over his hand and barked.
Harriet giggled.
“It’s not Sam who makes Harriet happy,” said Franklin’s mother. “It’s her big brother.”
“Really?” said Franklin.
“Really,” she answered.
Franklin walked a little taller.
Franklin decided that being a big brother was a good thing after all.
He liked to make Harriet laugh.
Sometimes, he even let her play with Sam.
But Franklin always made sure that Sam was back in his room by bedtime.
There is only so much sharing a big brother can do.
