"I hope they have foosball," Stacey added.

Claudia looked at her. "What?"

"You know, a table with these long poles attached to players, who kick a ball when you rotate the pole."

"Table hockey!" Mallory said.

"Whatever," Stacey replied.

"Well, you can all cheer me and Charlie in

the three-legged race," Kristy added.

It turned out all my friends' families were going to enter. That was cool. It gave me something to look forward to in the long trudge toward Thanksgiving.

Chapter 3.

"Oh, this is absurd!" Richard was struggling with his zipper on his pants. "And where am I supposed to drop this?"

None of us could answer. We were sick with laughter, sprawled out on the grass of our yard.

It was Saturday morning, and we were practicing for Run for Your Money. Now, if you told me an alien had landed in my backyard, I probably wouldn't believe you. But if you told me Richard Spier would agree to participate in an underwear race in Run for Your Money, I'd think you were crazy.

Well, that was exactly what Mom had managed to do — convince Richard. Don't ask me how. She had even bought him a Simpsons tank top undershirt and an oversized pair of boxer shorts with red hearts on them, just for the occasion.

The hearts showed through his pants, which made us laugh even more. Plus his belly jiggled beneath his undershirt.

"I'm really not sure about this. ..." Richard was now hopping on one foot, trying to pull his pants over his big, clunky shoes. His face was redder than the hearts.

"You look so sweet, Richard!" Mom blurted out, still clutching her stomach.

She was wearing lightweight long Johns. I was down to a two-piece bathing suit. Mary Anne was wearing a modest one-piece with a skirt.

I should probably explain. In an underwear race you peel off your clothes as you run. The first person to get to the finish line in his or her underwear wins. (It doesn't have to be actual underwear. Mom says people sometimes wear outrageous things. It's the spirit that counts — the spirit of silliness and fun.)