Growing up, many children don’t notice one kid—eccentric, happy, and by himself—until they hear his last name, Zinkoff, “and somehow you just know that’s who the name belongs to, it’s that kid” (2).

On his first day without a grown-up to corral him, Donald Zinkoff jumps down from his front porch onto the sidewalk and takes off, running as fast as he can and thrilling to the freedom and speed. A car passes; he races it and falls behind, but he loves the experience. He stomps on the sidewalk for pure joy, yells “Yahoo!”, and keeps running.

Running isn’t enough, and soon the kids race each other. Their moms warn them not to run in the street, so they take over the alleys and make up more games—;ole “Who can eat the most cupcakes? Who can go to bed the latest? Who can weigh the most? Who can burp the loudest?” (6). Everyone wins at something, except Donald.