Kids Can Fly: Squeaky Clean

I'm trying to keep the list as brief as possible. I could mention the fruit-selling, the house-decorating, and the baking, but just thinking about it makes my brain tired. So I'll get to the point: when Mum did something, she always made a decent job of it. That's why we froze solid when she announced that she was running as a candidate for the Clean Party. We had a feeling she would be successful.

And she was. The phone rang that evening. The locals had accepted her above three other nominees, and she was in.

"What happens now?" I asked.

"Nothing, for a while," she said, "I have to serve my electorate and prove myself to them."

"Then what?"

"I don't know," she said, "I may not be voted in the next time round."

"But what if you are?"

"Then I could become an MP."

"An MP!" I said, "That means you'd have to go to Parliament, and make speeches, and one day you might even become the next Prime Minister!" "That would be pretty cool! I think you'd make a good one. You'd make lots of money if you got that job wouldn't you? You could buy me a computer with a DVD and heaps of games!"

"That's where you're wrong," said Mum, "I didn't stand for the Clean Party to buy horrible computer games for innocent children. I think some of those games you play are evil! If I had the power to do it, I'd pass laws to make them illegal!"

"Mum! You wouldn't!"

"Oh yes I would! And I'd do a lot more than that!"

I didn't want to know what else Mum would do. Suddenly I wished Mum had never heard of politics. She was like Toad of Toad Hall - intoxicated with dreams of power and grandeur. She was already planning on ruling the world, and if she got to the top position, that's exactly what she would do!

The days slipped by and Mum began to ascend the ladder of political power. We knew it would happen. First she was frantically busy around the town. She went to events, she spoke to leaders, she had meetings, and she submitted ideas and letters to Parliament. Eventually