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of people we might be interested in bending the rules for. But he seemed so excited that neither of us had the heart to disappoint him, so the three of us headed off, stopping briefly in the backyard to grab a couple of chicken legs and some lemonade.

CHAPTER TEN
    A s we walked through the field toward the fort, Buzz sidled up alongside me and whispered in my ear, “I hope he isn’t going to pick his nose in the fort.”
    â€œAs long as he keeps his hands in his pockets, it shouldn’t be a problem,” I said.
    â€œWhat about the stink?” he asked.
    â€œThe fort smells like an old sock anyway,” I said.
    â€œGreat. Now it’ll smell like an old sock with a dead fish in it. Nice combo.”
    We walked on in silence for a little while. Bob-o was lagging behind, kicking stones as he went. Every now and then one of the rocks would skitter up the path and clip oneof us in the heel, but since it didn’t really hurt we didn’t bother to tell him to knock it off.
    â€œYou know, Guy,” said Buzz as we neared the fort. “I didn’t think of this before, but if you switch places with Bob-o you’re going to have to sleep in his bed.”
    I hadn’t thought of that either.
    â€œWe’ll just have to make a deal that each of us will clean our rooms and change the sheets before we make the switch,” I said. “To tell you the truth, I’m more worried about the bigger issues.”
    â€œYou mean like how you’re going to get his parents, I mean your parents, well, anyway, them , to figure out the truth about you guys getting switched?”
    â€œYeah.”
    When we reached the fort, Bob-o caught up to us and we gave him the grand tour. He must have remembered the hands-in-the-pocket rule from his visit to my room and figured it would hold true for the fort as well, because he stuck his hands deep into hispockets before he came inside.
    â€œSo, what do you think, guys?” said Buzz. “Will a weekend be long enough to accomplish your mission?”
    â€œShould be,” I said.
    Bob-o shrugged.
    â€œDon’t tell your parents about the assignment until Friday morning—that way there won’t be time for them to make a stink about it, or snoop around finding out what other parents think of it. Make sure you clean up your rooms and change your sheets and junk before Friday, okay?” Buzz looked pointedly at Bob-o. “Got that? You might want to open a window too.”
    Bob-o blushed, and for a second I felt bad for him.
    â€œBasically, you’ll have Friday night and all day Saturday to point out all the things you have in common with your real parents, then on Sunday—a week from tomorrow—you plant the seed about how babies sometimes get switched at birth, blah, blah, blah. Then allwe do is wait for the lightbulbs to go off over their heads.”
    â€œMaybe we should go over some of the similarities we want to be pointing out to our new parents,” I suggested.
    â€œGood idea. Bob-o, for starters, make sure you dress the way you always do, because that’s a big thing you and Guy’s parents have in common,” Buzz said.
    â€œAnd don’t change your hair,” I added.
    Bob-o checked out his reflection in the screen on the old TV, carefully studying the cowlicks that stuck out in all directions like a pinwheel. Then he puckered up his lips, put his hands on his hips, and did an exaggerated fashion model pose. I laughed out loud, and so did Buzz, in spite of himself.
    â€œThe beauty of this whole thing is that it’s all genetic, Bob-o,” I said. “It’s not your fault that you march to a different drummer and have a wacky sense of style—I mean, you saw my mother tonight. You’re going to be happy with her, Bob-o, she’s very—”
    â€œColorful,” Buzz interjected. “And so is Wuckums. Wait’ll you get a load of the oyster trick. You’re