worried.
I would have been seriously worried too. But just then Fluffy walked over to where I was standing, and she threw up on my shoe.
It was the most disgusting thing that ever happened to me.
My mother busted out laughing.
“Not funny!” I yelled.
But Mom couldn’t help herself. She left the room all doubled over. I’m not kidding. For a mother, she can act extremely immature at times.
Anyway, as it turned out, she was laughing so hard, she forgot to punish me for lying.
I knew getting her to laugh would work.
It’s just too bad I couldn’t have done it without getting hurled on.
chapter two
SHOWIN’ AND TELLIN’
The first time I ever remember making people laugh was in kindergarten. Each morning, the teacher would ask if anyone had anything special for Show and Tell.
At first I was pretty shy about it. I would just sit there quietly at my desk and keep my mouth shut. But there were lots of kids who didn’t.
Like there was this one kid who we called Weird Peter Donnelly. Every single day, when the teacher asked if anyone had anything for Show and Tell, Weird Peter Donnelly would raise his hand.
Mostly, he brought in his hobbies. Weird Peter had the stupidest hobbies in the whole world. One of them was collecting different-colored sweater fuzz. Scary, right?
One day he brought his fuzz collection to school. He kept it in a shoe box. When he passed it around, I felt stupid just looking at it.
Then all of a sudden, I got this funny idea. Just as I was about to pass the box to the next person, I pretended that I was going to sneeze.
“AH … AH … AH … AHCHOO!”
I sneezed right smack in the middle of Weird Peter Donnelly’s sweater fuzz! Fuzz balls went flying everywhere!
The whole class went nuts laughing.
Weird Peter freaked out. He ran over to my desk and began gathering up fuzz and putting it back in his box.
The teacher told me to help him, but I was laughing too hard to get out of my chair. I had to admit, making people laugh was a lot more fun than sitting quietly at my desk.
From then on, I began to use Show and Tell to tell the class funny things that had happened to me. When I ran out of true things to tell, I started making them up.
One time I told the class that my father was Mr. Potato Head. I don’t know what made me say such a stupid thing. It just came out.
The teacher made me sit down. She said that there was a big difference between Show and Telland Show and Blatantly-Lie-Right-to-Our-Faces.
Personally, I don’t think teachers like it when their students are funnier than they are. So far I’ve been funnier than every teacher I’ve ever had, and not one of them has liked me. My goal in life is to try and find a teacher who appreciates my sense of humor.
Last year—in fifth grade—I had a teacher named Miss Henderson. Out of all the teachers I’ve ever had, Miss Henderson is the one who disliked me the most.
It makes sense, though. In fifth grade, I was the funniest I’ve ever been.
On the very first day of school, I knew we weren’t going to get along. Miss Henderson made everyone stand up next to their desk and introduce themselves to the class. You had to say your name, where you were born, and something about your family. How lame is that?
Allison Martin went first. She said, “My name is Allison Martin. I was born right here in Phoenix, and I have two brothers.”
Oooh … let me write that down
, I thought to myself.
Then Brenda Ferguson stood up. “My name is Brenda Ferguson. I was born in California, and I have a baby sister.”
And blah, blah, blah
, I thought.
This had to be the most boring first day of school I’d ever had. After about six kids had spoken, I just couldn’t stand it anymore. I raised my hand.
“Yes?” asked Miss Henderson. “You there, in the yellow shirt.”
I looked down at my shirt. Yup. That was me, all right.
“Miss Henderson? I was just thinking … maybe we should try to tell something a little more
I would have been seriously worried too. But just then Fluffy walked over to where I was standing, and she threw up on my shoe.
It was the most disgusting thing that ever happened to me.
My mother busted out laughing.
“Not funny!” I yelled.
But Mom couldn’t help herself. She left the room all doubled over. I’m not kidding. For a mother, she can act extremely immature at times.
Anyway, as it turned out, she was laughing so hard, she forgot to punish me for lying.
I knew getting her to laugh would work.
It’s just too bad I couldn’t have done it without getting hurled on.
chapter two
SHOWIN’ AND TELLIN’
The first time I ever remember making people laugh was in kindergarten. Each morning, the teacher would ask if anyone had anything special for Show and Tell.
At first I was pretty shy about it. I would just sit there quietly at my desk and keep my mouth shut. But there were lots of kids who didn’t.
Like there was this one kid who we called Weird Peter Donnelly. Every single day, when the teacher asked if anyone had anything for Show and Tell, Weird Peter Donnelly would raise his hand.
Mostly, he brought in his hobbies. Weird Peter had the stupidest hobbies in the whole world. One of them was collecting different-colored sweater fuzz. Scary, right?
One day he brought his fuzz collection to school. He kept it in a shoe box. When he passed it around, I felt stupid just looking at it.
Then all of a sudden, I got this funny idea. Just as I was about to pass the box to the next person, I pretended that I was going to sneeze.
“AH … AH … AH … AHCHOO!”
I sneezed right smack in the middle of Weird Peter Donnelly’s sweater fuzz! Fuzz balls went flying everywhere!
The whole class went nuts laughing.
Weird Peter freaked out. He ran over to my desk and began gathering up fuzz and putting it back in his box.
The teacher told me to help him, but I was laughing too hard to get out of my chair. I had to admit, making people laugh was a lot more fun than sitting quietly at my desk.
From then on, I began to use Show and Tell to tell the class funny things that had happened to me. When I ran out of true things to tell, I started making them up.
One time I told the class that my father was Mr. Potato Head. I don’t know what made me say such a stupid thing. It just came out.
The teacher made me sit down. She said that there was a big difference between Show and Telland Show and Blatantly-Lie-Right-to-Our-Faces.
Personally, I don’t think teachers like it when their students are funnier than they are. So far I’ve been funnier than every teacher I’ve ever had, and not one of them has liked me. My goal in life is to try and find a teacher who appreciates my sense of humor.
Last year—in fifth grade—I had a teacher named Miss Henderson. Out of all the teachers I’ve ever had, Miss Henderson is the one who disliked me the most.
It makes sense, though. In fifth grade, I was the funniest I’ve ever been.
On the very first day of school, I knew we weren’t going to get along. Miss Henderson made everyone stand up next to their desk and introduce themselves to the class. You had to say your name, where you were born, and something about your family. How lame is that?
Allison Martin went first. She said, “My name is Allison Martin. I was born right here in Phoenix, and I have two brothers.”
Oooh … let me write that down
, I thought to myself.
Then Brenda Ferguson stood up. “My name is Brenda Ferguson. I was born in California, and I have a baby sister.”
And blah, blah, blah
, I thought.
This had to be the most boring first day of school I’d ever had. After about six kids had spoken, I just couldn’t stand it anymore. I raised my hand.
“Yes?” asked Miss Henderson. “You there, in the yellow shirt.”
I looked down at my shirt. Yup. That was me, all right.
“Miss Henderson? I was just thinking … maybe we should try to tell something a little more
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