“Hello!” said a cheerful voice from down by my knees.

The speaker was short. Very short. He had thick, curly brown hair and blue eyes. And the weird part was that he had curly hair on his feet.

“Hello!” he said again.

“Uh… hey.”

There was an awkward silence.

“Who are you?”

The short fellow drew himself up proudly. “I am Peregrin, the son of Paladin of the Took household and of the Great Smials.”

“Okay. What are you doing here?”

“Gandalf sent me here. He was supposed to babysit, but he said that you people would be happy to take care of me. By the way, where’s the kitchen?”

“Who’s Gandalf?”

“Gandalf. Um… he is tall, with a big grey beard and bushy eyebrows and wears a pointy hat and big boots and-”

“Ohhh… Mithrandir. That wizard guy. But WHAT are you?”

Peregrin looked indignant. “I am a hobbit, a very respectable one! Not as respectable as the Bagginses of course, but our family is richer, richer than the Brandybucks of Buckland which makes Merry very annoyed, but he’s okay with it except when we go out to buy candy and I buy more than him, by the way, where’s the kitchen?”

“Um… third room down the hall.”

“Thankee, thankee! At your service!”

With that he was gone.

Suddenly, a very, very bad thing happened. Dad walked through the door.

“Hullo, Boromir,” he moped. “The police sent me home and said I can’t play with matches anymore or burn down any more stuff. I’m hungry. Is there anything to eat?”

“Uh… Dad! Let’s go for… a… walk! Yeah! A walk! Just us two!”

Dad beamed. “Yes, my dear little Bori, but I am very hungry, so first IÂ’ll…”

Too late. The hobbit waddled back out of a kitchen, very satisfied with himself. He was carrying everything from the snack pantry and refrigerator, and holding two cookies in his mouth. “Hi again! I can pay for the chips and-”

Dad gave him one look and ran screaming out the door.

Peregrin looked after him and continued. “Well, I can pay for the chips and cookies. Mithrandir gave me a lot of money.” He shoved a fifty dollar bill into my hands.

“Uh, thanks.”

“I can’t say I feel much complimented,” remarked Peregrin. “That old fat guy gave me one glance and scrammed.”

“Er, that’s my dad. The Steward. I’m Boromir, by the way.”

Peregrin smiled. “Good. Can we go and-”

Faramir bounced up. “Greetings, brother. I have faithfully accomplished the accounting task you have entrusted to me. We currently have all six accounts balanced and I have assorted all incomes and bills.”

“Fabulous,” I mumbled.

“And who is this respectable looking fellow?” Faramir turned to Peregrin. Before the hobbit could open his mouth, Faramir rattled off, “Of course you are a Halfling, (not to offend your height) but judging by your feet hair and eye color, my calculations undoubtedly conclude you are of the Took region, a relation of Paladin Took and seem to be of biological relations to a Brandybuck, perhaps?”

Peregrin’s mouth dropped open. “How did you know all that?”

Faramir smiled. “Simple genetically correct calculations, of course.”

“Yeah, or you were EAVESDROPPING ON OUR CONVERSATION!” I interrupted.

“What? You dare to accuse me, Faramir of the house of Hurin, to stoop so low as to eavesdrop?”

“Yes, because that’s what you do best.”

Faramir puffed out his chest, gave me a wrathful look and walked out, leaving me alone with Peregrin.

“So, Peregrin, want to go out? I can show you around town.”

“Sure! But you can call me Pippin if you want, or Pip for short.”

So off we went, never dreaming what would happen.

********

“This is the mall,” I explained, “and that’s the food court.”

“Oooooh,” Pippin’s eyes lit up, “Can we stop by there sometime?”

“Sure. This is Gondorian Eagle. It’s a clothing store.”

“Can we go in?”

“Okay.”

PippinÂ’s face brightened as he saw the racks of brightly colored shirts and shorts.

“What are these?” he asked, pulling some boxers off a rack.

I felt my cheeks flame. “Um, let’s look over there. Way, over there.”

“Okay. You’re blushing, Boromir,” he added as we went over to the sweatshirts.

“I know that,” I muttered.

“Cool! This one looks nice! Can I get it?”

“It might be too big, Pip.”

“Yeah, but I can just shrink it in the washing machine! Besides, I have money.”

To my amazement, the hobbit pulled out two fifties and a twenty.

“Who gave you that?” I blurted out before I could stop myself. Then I remembered it wasn’t polite to talk about money.

“It’s my pocket-money for this month. I usually get more, but I broke Daddy’s favorite pipe so I didn’t get the full amount.”

“BOROMIR!” a voice screamed. It was Daddy.

“Oh, no! Hide me!” I darted behind a clothes rack.

Pippin frowned. “What are you so scared about? It’s just-“

Dad blundered in and looked at Pippin. “Who are you, you little furry thing?”

Pippin drew himself up to his full height of three feet six and glared. “I AM PEREGRIN TOOK! A very respectable hobbit of the shire.”

Dad scratched his head. “I see.” Then he tripped over a clothes rack and got buried in swimsuits.

Pippin giggled. “Can I call you ‘funny man’?”

“Oh no!!” I thought. I was IN THAT VERY SAME SWIMSUIT RACK!!

Then, the worst thing imaginable happened, which is obvious. Dad saw me.

“WELL HELLO, BOR-”

I scooped Pippin up and ran out of there like crazy.

“Hi!” said Pippin. “I paid for my new sweatshirt!”

“Great,” I gasped. “Uh, let’s get some lunch.”

We both got double whopper burgers from the food court and wondered what to do next.

“I know,” said Pippin. “Let’s go back to your house! Then I can unpack my bags and set up my room.”

“Sure.”

*******************************************************

“Greetings, brother. Did you have a fine time at the shopping center?”

“Yeah. We’re going to settle down in the guest room. And Fari, if dad drops back here, uh, give me a warning.”

“Certainly, Boromir. I will amuse myself with the third chronicle of A History of Elvish culture and legends.”

We took the elevator up to the third floor.

“Alright.” I opened the door to the guest room. “Here’s your room.” It was a bit small, with a bed, personal bathroom, a desk and chair, and a small set of drawers with a lamp on top.

Pippin took out all his suitcases and unpacked his stuff. “This is a nice room. I think I’ll like it.”

“Good. Um, I guess I’ll show you around.” We went into the hall. “My bedroom’s two doors away, and there’s a playroom across the hall.”

Pippin giggled. “Is Funny Man really your daddy?”

“NO! I mean, yes! Well, um… can we talk about this later?”

Pippin giggled again. “Sure! Can I call you little funny man?”

“NOOO!”

“Okay, okay.” Pippin walked off to the rec room and I slumped onto the bed, totally exhausted. I guess I fell asleep because the next thing I knew was Daddy right in my face.

“AGGGH!”

“Hullo, my dear! Can we do some kind of father-son activity?”

“Get away from me!”

“Not so fast, my wittle Bori-ori-snori-dori-nori! I know, we can take up Interpretive Dancing!”

Before I knew what was happening, I was scooped up and twirled around the room with my moronic dad. I felt like throwing up, but I didnÂ’t want to get the room all messy.

“LALALALA! THE FIRE DANCE! HOOPY-HAPPY-HUPPY-HEEPY!”

“AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!”

With a super fast kick, I sent him flying toward the wall. After a loud crash, I ran out the room to be greeted by Pippin again.

“Hi, Boromir! Your rec room is really fun. What were you doing in there? There was a crash.”

I waved my arms. “Uh, nothing at all. What would you like to do?”

Pippin thought a minute. “Let’s make a lemonade stand! I make good lemonade!”

“Well, sure.”

*****************

Pippin made a big pitcher of pink lemonade, and drew a sign that said LEMONADE. 50 CENTS. I set up a table in our front yard and got paper cups.
Only a few people came and bought anything. Pippin baked some cookies and sold some of those too, but in the end we ate most of them.

“Let’s stay a little longer,” said Pippin, “It’s getting hotter.”

I was about to agree when my idiotic dad popped up. “HI BOROMIR!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING???”

I snarled at him, but Pippin giggled. “Hi Funny Man! We’re selling lemonade!”

“LEMONADE!! OHHH!! LET ME HELP!! I CAN DO ADVERTISING!!!”

With that, he jumped into the street and started dancing the fire dance, and singing “HEEPY-HOOPY-HAPPY-BEEPY-ZEEPY-” until a car drove up.

“HI!! BUY SOME LEMONADE!!” he screamed at the driver, who was a woman.

The driver frowned. Dad then STUCK HIS HEAD IN the window and yelled like a maniac.

The angry lady tried to close the window, but dad still had his head stuck in. She then pushed on the gas and zoomed away, with dadÂ’s head in the window and the rest of his body failing outside of the car.

“OMIGOSH!!! We have to get him back!” I yelled.

Pippin nodded. “Let’s go save Funny Man!”

With that, we ran off.

***********************