said.
“Good afternoon, lady,” I said back very polite.
Then Mrs. smiled at me.
That’s because she is the nicest teacher I ever saw.
And so I wish me and her were bestest friends.
And guess what else?
I wish I could hide in her hamper.
2 / Questions
Me and my bestest friend Lucille sit at my same table together.
My table is where I sit up straight.
And do my work.
And don’t talk to my neighbor.
Except I keep on forgetting that part.
“I wonder where Mrs. lives?” I whispered to Lucille real quiet.
“Shh,” said Lucille. “We can’t talk or else we’ll get in trouble. And anyway, you’re not allowed to know where she lives. ’Cause it’s a secret.”
“Says who?” I asked.
“Says my brother, that’s who. And he’s in third grade. And he says teachers have to keep their house a secret. Or else kids might go there and throw rotten tomatoes.”
I did a huffy at her.
“Yeah, only I don’t want to throw rotten tomatoes, Lucille,” I explained. “I just want to hide in her hamper, and that’s all.”
“I don’t care,” she said. “You’re still not allowed. ’Cause my brother said so. And he knows more than you do. So there.”
I made an angry face. “
So there
is not a nice word, Lucille,” I said.
Then I made a fist at her. Except for Mrs. saw me. And so I had to unfold it.
After that I behaved myself very good. I sat up real straight. And I did all my work.
Work is when you use your brain and a pencil.
Only sometimes I accidentally use the eraser too hard. And a big hole rubs in my paper.
“Hey! I did beautifully today!” I called out. “’Cause guess what? No hole! That’s what!”
Mrs. came to my table. She put a gold star on my work.
“You
did
do beautifully, Junie B.,” she said. “Maybe I’ll hang this one on the wall for Grandparents’ Day on Monday. Would you like that?”
“Yes,” I said. “Only I keep on forgetting how come those guys are coming to this place.”
Then Mrs. explained to me all about Grandparents’ Day again.
She said our grandparents are coming for a visit. And we get to show them Room Nine. And also we get to have ’freshments together.
Mrs. said ’freshments are cookies and abeverage.
I raised my hand.
“Yeah, only I don’t think I’m allowed to have the kind of drink named abeverage. ’Cause I’m only allowed to have milk and juice and that’s all.”
Mrs. looked up at the ceiling with her eyes. Then I looked up there, too. But I didn’t see anything.
“How many of you think you can bring cookies on Monday?” asked Mrs.
“I CAN! I CAN!” I hollered very excited. “’CAUSE MY MOTHER IS THE BESTEST COOKIE BAKER IN THE WHOLEWORLD, THAT’S WHY! EXCEPT FOR ONE TIME SHE ACCIDENTALLY FORGOT THEY WERE IN THE OVEN. AND THE FIREMEN HAD TO COME TO OUR HOUSE.”
Mrs. laughed. Only I don’t know why. ’Cause that was not a funny story.
After that, she gave me a note for Mother. It was some writing about baking cookies, I think.
“If your mother has any questions, please tell her to call me,” said Mrs.
Just then I got a very great idea!
“Hey!” I said. “Maybe me and Mother can bring the cookies to your house! And so then I can see where you live!”
Mrs. rumpled my hair. “You don’t have to come to my house, Junie B. Just bring the cookies to school on Monday morning.”
I smiled very sweet. “Yeah, only I still want to see where you live,” I said.
Then Mrs. turned around. And she walked back to her desk.
That’s how come I had to follow her.
“Do you have the rich kind of house? Or the regular kind of house?” I asked her. “’Cause I just have the regular kind of house.Except for Mother wants the rich kind. Only Daddy said
lotsa luck
.”
Mrs. pointed at my chair. That means to sit down, I think.
“Yeah, only do you have a daddy that lives at your house, too? Are there any pictures of him in your wallet? Let’s look in there, okay? Do you have a secret compartmentin it? ’Cause
“Good afternoon, lady,” I said back very polite.
Then Mrs. smiled at me.
That’s because she is the nicest teacher I ever saw.
And so I wish me and her were bestest friends.
And guess what else?
I wish I could hide in her hamper.
2 / Questions
Me and my bestest friend Lucille sit at my same table together.
My table is where I sit up straight.
And do my work.
And don’t talk to my neighbor.
Except I keep on forgetting that part.
“I wonder where Mrs. lives?” I whispered to Lucille real quiet.
“Shh,” said Lucille. “We can’t talk or else we’ll get in trouble. And anyway, you’re not allowed to know where she lives. ’Cause it’s a secret.”
“Says who?” I asked.
“Says my brother, that’s who. And he’s in third grade. And he says teachers have to keep their house a secret. Or else kids might go there and throw rotten tomatoes.”
I did a huffy at her.
“Yeah, only I don’t want to throw rotten tomatoes, Lucille,” I explained. “I just want to hide in her hamper, and that’s all.”
“I don’t care,” she said. “You’re still not allowed. ’Cause my brother said so. And he knows more than you do. So there.”
I made an angry face. “
So there
is not a nice word, Lucille,” I said.
Then I made a fist at her. Except for Mrs. saw me. And so I had to unfold it.
After that I behaved myself very good. I sat up real straight. And I did all my work.
Work is when you use your brain and a pencil.
Only sometimes I accidentally use the eraser too hard. And a big hole rubs in my paper.
“Hey! I did beautifully today!” I called out. “’Cause guess what? No hole! That’s what!”
Mrs. came to my table. She put a gold star on my work.
“You
did
do beautifully, Junie B.,” she said. “Maybe I’ll hang this one on the wall for Grandparents’ Day on Monday. Would you like that?”
“Yes,” I said. “Only I keep on forgetting how come those guys are coming to this place.”
Then Mrs. explained to me all about Grandparents’ Day again.
She said our grandparents are coming for a visit. And we get to show them Room Nine. And also we get to have ’freshments together.
Mrs. said ’freshments are cookies and abeverage.
I raised my hand.
“Yeah, only I don’t think I’m allowed to have the kind of drink named abeverage. ’Cause I’m only allowed to have milk and juice and that’s all.”
Mrs. looked up at the ceiling with her eyes. Then I looked up there, too. But I didn’t see anything.
“How many of you think you can bring cookies on Monday?” asked Mrs.
“I CAN! I CAN!” I hollered very excited. “’CAUSE MY MOTHER IS THE BESTEST COOKIE BAKER IN THE WHOLEWORLD, THAT’S WHY! EXCEPT FOR ONE TIME SHE ACCIDENTALLY FORGOT THEY WERE IN THE OVEN. AND THE FIREMEN HAD TO COME TO OUR HOUSE.”
Mrs. laughed. Only I don’t know why. ’Cause that was not a funny story.
After that, she gave me a note for Mother. It was some writing about baking cookies, I think.
“If your mother has any questions, please tell her to call me,” said Mrs.
Just then I got a very great idea!
“Hey!” I said. “Maybe me and Mother can bring the cookies to your house! And so then I can see where you live!”
Mrs. rumpled my hair. “You don’t have to come to my house, Junie B. Just bring the cookies to school on Monday morning.”
I smiled very sweet. “Yeah, only I still want to see where you live,” I said.
Then Mrs. turned around. And she walked back to her desk.
That’s how come I had to follow her.
“Do you have the rich kind of house? Or the regular kind of house?” I asked her. “’Cause I just have the regular kind of house.Except for Mother wants the rich kind. Only Daddy said
lotsa luck
.”
Mrs. pointed at my chair. That means to sit down, I think.
“Yeah, only do you have a daddy that lives at your house, too? Are there any pictures of him in your wallet? Let’s look in there, okay? Do you have a secret compartmentin it? ’Cause
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