Henry's Claim to Fame

The story of a young boy who wants to be famous.

Henry wanted to be famous. He wanted to see his name and picture in magazines, books and newspapers. He wanted people to stop him in the streets and ask for his autograph. And he wanted other kids to follow him were ever he went, whispering, “There’s the amazing Henry. I wish I were him!”

But alas, Henry was just an ordinary boy, who didn’t get crowds of people following him, or people begging him for his autograph on the streets. One day, he asked his mother, “Why am I not famous?”

“Well, Henry, not everyone is famous.

“I know,” said Henry sadly, “but I really, really want to be. Do you think if I tell other famous people how badly I want to be like them, they’ll make me famous?”

His mother smiled, “It doesn’t work like that. You need to do something amazing in order to be famous.”

That got Henry thinking. What could he do? He could be in a movie. No, Henry thought sadly, My parents won’t let me do that. He could paint a picture. Henry hung his head at the thought. I can’t draw. What was Henry good at? And then he remembered. Henry was very, very, very good at squashing bugs. In fact, he had a squashed bug collection.

“I’m going to be famous!” he announced proudly at dinner.

“How’s that?” his father asked between bites of mashed potato.

“I’m going to have the biggest, bestest squashed bug collection ever!”

His mother looked at his father. His father looked back at his mother, and Henry’s big sister, Molly, looked at both of them.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Henry asked. They’re so amazed they don’t know what to say, Henry thought to himself smugly, while his parents and sister stared at each other.

Finally Molly spoke, “It’s a good start, Henry.”

“What do you mean?” Henry asked, a bit disappointed. This wasn’t the whoops and cheers that he was expecting when his family heard about his great idea.

“I’m not sure people will want to see a squashed bug collection.”

“Oh.” Henry was very sad. He took his fork and tried to spear as many peas on it as he could. “I bet,” he said sadly, “that no one ever put as many peas on their fork as I did. But no one would care, would they?”

“As a matter of fact, Henry,” Molly said, her eyes wide with excitement, “they do. I’ll be back in a second.” And with that, she ran to her room to get something. Henry was excited again. He couldn’t sit still. He was going to be famous! Only…he didn’t know how. But Molly was the smartest sister (then again she was the only sister) he had ever had. She would know exactly what to do. And just as he was wondering what she had in mind, Molly walked in with a huge blue book and set it down on the table.

“This,” she said, “is a book of world records.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You could set a world record!”

“Oh! I could, couldn’t!” Henry was all smiles. He was going to set a world record. “Let’s see if you set it for peas on a fork,” Molly said while flipping through the book. “How many do you have?”

Henry counted. “Ten,” he said proudly.

“Oh, it says that the record is fifty. But I’m sure there’s something else you can do better.”

How did someone get fifty peas on a fork? Henry wondered. He didn’t even want to see what the biggest collection of squashed bugs was.

“How about you set the record tomorrow, Henry? It’s time to go to bed,” said Henry’s mother.

“Could I stay up a bit longer?” Henry begged.

“Henry,” Molly reminded him, “you want to have a good night’s sleep. After all, it takes a lot of energy to set a world record.”

“Fine.”

Henry couldn’t stop thinking about setting a world record. He was too exited to sleep. He began to brainstorm ideas. He was at playing with a bee the longest without getting stung, when he finally fell asleep.

When he woke up the next morning, he ran to breakfast. There on the table was the book of world records. Henry decided that he would try to break every single record before giving up. He gobbled down the waffles that his mom gave him, then went to work.

They were in alphabetical order. Henry soon discovered that he couldn’t do everything. He couldn’t, for example, hold a note on a bassoon for the longest time because he didn’t have a bassoon. But he tried everything that he could possibly do. He tried holding his breath for more than two minutes, but he felt like he was about to burst. He tried taking the longest time to paint a picture, but decided that he would give up on that because he would have to take over ten years. He didn’t want to wait that long to be famous.

Towards the end of the day, Henry had tried most everything. He was about to attempt to build the tallest xylophone when his mother called him in for dinner.

“Almost done,” Henry said.

“You can go back to it after dinner,” his mother said sternly.

“But Mom, I have to do it faster than ten minutes and twenty-two seconds.”

“Come on Henry,” Molly called. “You can try again later.”

So, Henry walked gloomily to the table.

“I can’t do anything well,” he said sadly.

“There are some things people haven’t even thought of that I’m sure you could do,” Molly reassured him.

“How many records did you try to set, Henry?” asked his father.

“One thousand, nine hundred, and ninety-nine.”

“How many?” his mother asked. “Nine-hundred?”

“No,” Henry said slowly, “One thousand, nine hundred, and ninety-nine.”

“Wow, Henry!” Molly said excitedly. “I wonder what the record for that is.”

“For what?”
“For trying to set the most world records in a day.”

“Oh. I doubt I broke it.”

Molly flipped through the book. “Well what do you know?” she said, pointing to the top of the page. “The record is One thousand and twenty-two. Henry, you set it!”

“I did?”

“We’d better alert the book company as soon as possible,” Molly said. “They’ll want to know about it, and they’ll want interview you, too.”

“I’ll be famous!” Henry exclaimed.

And that is exactly how Henry, an ordinary boy who never had admires following him or stopping him in the street for his autograph, became famous.