Molly wasn't looking to have a pet. She prefers climbing trees, eating peanut butter, playing with her dolls, and having breakfast with the birds. But when her little brother thinks he hears a monster in the backyard, everything changes . . . including friendships. Now, Molly's adventure with an avian friend leads not only to some discoveries about herself but also to standing in the kitchen sink, having a tea party in a tree house, holding a live bird in her hands, singing into a walkie-talkie, and eating "Oatmeal Mollerino" She even manages to finally decide on her absolutely, positively most favorite color in the whole wide world-thanks to her special new friend. Breakfast With The Birds is a delight! Long before I became a professional writer myself, I had a career in children's book publishing. But I must admit . . . I would never be able to write for kids with the skill that Jack G Hyman so clearly possesses. This is an utterly charming read that children will enjoy experiencing and learning from, over and over. Highly recommended! -Mike Greenly, Award-winning Lyricist, Author, Journalist, Speechwriter Breakfast with the Birds By Jack G Hyman Balboa Press Copyright © 2013 Jack G Hyman All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-4525-8453-9 CHAPTER 1 My name is Molly, and I love birds. I also love Sunday mornings. And I totally love peanut butter for breakfast. On school days, I spread it on toast, but on Sundays I put it on plain bread because I'm in much too big a hurry to wait for the toaster to pop up. That's because I get up really, really early on Sundays so I can do my most favorite thing in the whole world. I have breakfast with the birds. I've been doing it for so long that Mom and Dad sometimes call me Molly Sunday. I'm the only one in my house who gets up early on Sunday. Mom and Dad don't get up early because they work all week and every other Saturday. On Sundays they like to sleep late. My little brother doesn't get up early because he's only six and he hates to wake up anytime. Really! Dad has to wake him three or four times just to get him out of bed for breakfast. So he'll never get up early. My brother's name is Fred, but I call him Ferd. Sometimes I say it like this: "Hi, Ferrrrrd," or "Good morning, Ferrrrrd," or "Get out of my room, Ferrrrrd." He gets mad at me for saying his name like that. I think that's why he's always getting into my stuff and sneaking into my room to try to scare me. Well, he can't because I'm almost nine years old and I don't get scared. So there. Mom likes birds as much as I do. She tells Ferd and me which birds are which. Like the nuthatch. Is that a funny name for a bird or what? And the cowbird. That's Ferd's favorite because he thinks that it will go "moo" one day. Sometimes when Mom spots a cowbird, she tells me first so I can run upstairs and tell Ferd that there's a cow in our backyard. He knows what I mean and runs down to hear if the bird is mooing. It never does. I like when Mom teaches us about all the different birds that come to our house. She told us which birds stay around all winter, like the cardinals, and which ones go away and come back in the spring, like the robins. She's even teaching us how to tell the boy birds from the girl birds. Dad knows as much about animals as Mom because both of them are veterinarians. That means they're animal doctors. Pretty cool! Mom said that we get a lot of birds because we live close to the water. The place where we live is called Orient Point. It's in New York, and it's super cool because there's a state park nearby and a lighthouse and tons of different animals and birds. The best part about Mom and Dad being veterinarians is that Ferd and I get to see lots of animals. We even get to help feed some of them. And we get new ones all the time. But the best thing that has ever happened to me in my whole life happened on a Saturday a few weeks ago. Ferd was playing in the tree house that Dad built for him in a cherry tree. Mom and Dad were at their veterinary clinic, and I was in the kitchen. Suddenly Ferd came running into the house, screaming, "There's a monster on top of my tree house! There's a monster on top of my tree house!" "What does it look like?" I asked. "I don't know," Ferd said. "Then how do you know it's a monster?" "Because it's making funny noises and scratching and thumping on the roof." "Maybe it's a rabbit." "Rabbits can't climb trees, Molly." "Well, maybe it's a lizard." "Lizards don't make funny noises, Molly." "Okay, I'll go look at it." "Oh no you won't!" Ferd screamed. "You're not allowed in my tree house. You're a girl. I'll go tell Dad." Ferd won't let me come up into his tree house. He says that it's just for him and his friends and that girls aren't allowed. Whenever he tells me that, I look right at him and tell him that I don't care about his silly tree house because I've got a super cool dollhouse and he can't play with it because boys aren't allowed. So there. "Well, wh