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CHAPTER SEVENWhen Abel got home from school on Tuesday, Penelope was just coming in too. She flopped down in front of the television set and reached into her backpack for a huge apple fritter. The fritter was on its way toward her mouth when Mom came into the room.
“Penelope Ruiz!” Mom screamed. “What are you doing? We’re having dinner in a couple of hours, and you’re stuffing yourself with some unhealthy, greasy apple fritter!” Mom’s wrath quickly refocused on Abel.
“Abel, shame on you, bringing that junk home when you know your sister shouldn’t be eating that stuff!”
“Mom,” Abel explained patiently, “I didn’t bring the apple fritter home. I don’t bring anything home from that place. It makes me sick just looking at it.”
Mom grabbed Penelope’s backpack and cried, “This is full
