good to pass up.
He had to admit he was a little bit mad—no, a lot mad—that he had got paint on the sleeves of his jacket. But he was also still mad at Caroline for wearing his clothes to school. He could forgive her for wearing his trousers, maybe, and his T-shirt, his socks and shoes, but his underpants ? Was there any boy in Buckman who would like to have his underpants displayed in public by a girl who was wearing them?
Most boys, he figured, would have decontaminated them. Most boys, in fact, would probably have thrown them out. Wally himself was certainly never going to wear them again, especially underpants that had a happy face painted on the seat, but he had big plans for those underpants.
A few days before Christmas, he put them in a box and wrapped them in the angel-print paper that Mother had brought home from the hardware store. It was the blue-and-gold paper that the hardware store was selling at half price. He put the box aside to take to school on the last day before the Christmas holidays, to put in Caroline's book bag.
He was afraid she might guess who it was from, and if she did, she'd probably throw it in the BuckmanRiver without opening it. So he didn't even put her name on it, just a little folded piece of paper under the ribbon that read, “From a secret admirer,” so she'd be sure to open it. He no more admired Caroline than he admired stinkweed. When she saw the underpants, though, with another note—“Since you liked them so much, you can have them”—she'd know Wally was no admirer.
The day before vacation, Wally ate his breakfast as usual, and when no one was looking, he went into the living room to get the little box off the mantel. At least he thought he had put it on the mantel. He wanted it someplace he would see it every day so he would not forget it, but now he didn't know where it was. There were small flat boxes and rectangular boxes, but not the square box he had used to hold the underpants.
“Mom!” he yelled. “Where's that box I wrapped the other day? I have to take it to school.”
“There are boxes all over this house, Wally. Which one do you mean?” she called back.
“The square one in the angel wrapping paper. I left it on the mantel, I think.”
“There were four boxes on the mantel, and they all had the angel wrapping paper,” his mother answered. “I have no idea which one you're talking about.”
Wally's heart began to pound. This was too good a joke to get lost somewhere.
“Well, it's not here, and I've got to find it,” he said.
“Who was it for?” his mother asked, coming to the doorway.
Wally felt he could not possibly tell her it was forCaroline. He knew she would demand to know what was in it. Mom could smell trouble a mile away.
“For my teacher,” he fibbed.
“Well, how nice! You'll have to find it without my help, though, because I've got a ton of things to do before I leave for work this morning,” she said.
Wally kicked snow all the way to school that morning. He couldn't believe his great joke was ruined. All that work to wrap up the package like it was something really special, and now it was gone. Whoever got it wouldn't even understand the joke, and if Wally found it later, it would be too late to take it to school and slip it into Caroline's book bag.
“Hi, Wally,” Caroline said when he walked into the classroom. She didn't poke him in the back with her ruler, either. “Merry Christmas.” And to Wally's surprise, he found a present sliding over his shoulder, falling into his lap. Was this her way of apologizing for the paint prank, maybe?
Fortunately, no one seemed to be looking, but Wally felt his ears burn anyway—partly at getting a gift from a girl, partly because the girl was Caroline, and partly because he knew what he had almost given her.
“Uh… thanks,” he said, and stuffed it into his desk before anyone could see it. If Caroline thought he was going to open it here in the classroom in front of
He had to admit he was a little bit mad—no, a lot mad—that he had got paint on the sleeves of his jacket. But he was also still mad at Caroline for wearing his clothes to school. He could forgive her for wearing his trousers, maybe, and his T-shirt, his socks and shoes, but his underpants ? Was there any boy in Buckman who would like to have his underpants displayed in public by a girl who was wearing them?
Most boys, he figured, would have decontaminated them. Most boys, in fact, would probably have thrown them out. Wally himself was certainly never going to wear them again, especially underpants that had a happy face painted on the seat, but he had big plans for those underpants.
A few days before Christmas, he put them in a box and wrapped them in the angel-print paper that Mother had brought home from the hardware store. It was the blue-and-gold paper that the hardware store was selling at half price. He put the box aside to take to school on the last day before the Christmas holidays, to put in Caroline's book bag.
He was afraid she might guess who it was from, and if she did, she'd probably throw it in the BuckmanRiver without opening it. So he didn't even put her name on it, just a little folded piece of paper under the ribbon that read, “From a secret admirer,” so she'd be sure to open it. He no more admired Caroline than he admired stinkweed. When she saw the underpants, though, with another note—“Since you liked them so much, you can have them”—she'd know Wally was no admirer.
The day before vacation, Wally ate his breakfast as usual, and when no one was looking, he went into the living room to get the little box off the mantel. At least he thought he had put it on the mantel. He wanted it someplace he would see it every day so he would not forget it, but now he didn't know where it was. There were small flat boxes and rectangular boxes, but not the square box he had used to hold the underpants.
“Mom!” he yelled. “Where's that box I wrapped the other day? I have to take it to school.”
“There are boxes all over this house, Wally. Which one do you mean?” she called back.
“The square one in the angel wrapping paper. I left it on the mantel, I think.”
“There were four boxes on the mantel, and they all had the angel wrapping paper,” his mother answered. “I have no idea which one you're talking about.”
Wally's heart began to pound. This was too good a joke to get lost somewhere.
“Well, it's not here, and I've got to find it,” he said.
“Who was it for?” his mother asked, coming to the doorway.
Wally felt he could not possibly tell her it was forCaroline. He knew she would demand to know what was in it. Mom could smell trouble a mile away.
“For my teacher,” he fibbed.
“Well, how nice! You'll have to find it without my help, though, because I've got a ton of things to do before I leave for work this morning,” she said.
Wally kicked snow all the way to school that morning. He couldn't believe his great joke was ruined. All that work to wrap up the package like it was something really special, and now it was gone. Whoever got it wouldn't even understand the joke, and if Wally found it later, it would be too late to take it to school and slip it into Caroline's book bag.
“Hi, Wally,” Caroline said when he walked into the classroom. She didn't poke him in the back with her ruler, either. “Merry Christmas.” And to Wally's surprise, he found a present sliding over his shoulder, falling into his lap. Was this her way of apologizing for the paint prank, maybe?
Fortunately, no one seemed to be looking, but Wally felt his ears burn anyway—partly at getting a gift from a girl, partly because the girl was Caroline, and partly because he knew what he had almost given her.
“Uh… thanks,” he said, and stuffed it into his desk before anyone could see it. If Caroline thought he was going to open it here in the classroom in front of
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