Judy Moody Goes to College - Megan Mcdonald [1]
The top half of the note was just blah-blah, so Judy tore the note in half and gave the good half to her parents. Not the bad half. Mom and Dad looked at the note.
“Judy’s in trouble? Sweet!” said Stink.
“Only half trouble,” said Judy.
“Judy, where’s the rest of this note?” asked Dad.
“I rounded it down,” said Judy. “To one-half. Like the fraction. Get it? I’m really good at math. Fractions and rounding and everything.”
“Quick! What’s twelve times eight?” asked Stink.
“None of your beeswax,” said Judy.
“Try ninety-six,” said Stink.
“Judy, the note?” Mom said. “Dad and I need to see it. The whole thing.”
Judy reached into her pocket and pulled out the crumpled-up bottom half of the note. She handed it over.
Mom and Dad read it. They read it times two. It took them about one thousand years to read the fraction of a note.
They talked to Judy. They talked to each other. They talked to people on the phone for a hundred years. They came up with a plan.
Not a Listen-to-Your-New-Teacher plan.
Not a Hand-Over-Your-Brand-New-Watch plan.
Not a We’ll-Help-You-with-Your-Homework plan.
An Extra-Extra-Special-Help plan. EESH! A Judy-Moody-Goes-to-a-Tutor plan.
“Tutor?” said Judy. “Can’t you and Dad help me?”
“We will,” said Mom.
“We will,” said Dad.
“What’s six times seven?” said Stink.
“A tutor will be extra help,” said Mom.
“A tutor will be special help,” said Dad. “Just like your teacher suggested.”
“For your information,” said Judy, “Mrs. Grossman is NOT my teacher.”
“What’s five times eleven?” asked Stink.
“I’ll listen, I promise,” said Judy. “I won’t wear my new watch to school anymore. I’ll count to gross and great gross.”
“You’re gross,” said Stink.
Judy had to prove she was good at math. She started rattling off times tables.
“Four times two equals eight. Eight times two equals sixteen. Sixteen times two equals something I haven’t learned yet. But I will. I swear.”
“Having a tutor could be fun,” said Dad. “You’ll see.”
“Tutors have flash cards,” said Stink. “Baby flash cards. What’s two times five?”
“The number of toenails I’m going to paint while you’re asleep,” said Judy. Stink curled his toes under.
Judy looked from Mom to Dad, from Dad to Mom. “Do I have to?”
“It’s already settled,” said Mom. “You start tomorrow.”
“Hogsheads!” said Judy.
Dad picked up Judy after school the next day. Judy closed her eyes and slumped in the backseat of the car on the way to the tutor’s. All she could see behind her closed eyes were flash cards. Baby flash cards. She, Judy Moody, was in a mood. Not a math mood. And definitely NOT a flash card mood.
Fact of Life: She, Judy Moody, was a Tutor Tot.
“Am I going to have to count beads and glue macaroni? Stink says I am going to have to count beads and glue macaroni.”
“I don’t know,” said Dad.
“Am I going to have to play with jelly beans in jars? Stink says I’m going to have to play with jelly beans in jars,” said Judy.
“I don’t know,” said Dad.
“Am I going to have to make a cat out of a triangle? Stink says I’m going to have to make a cat out of a triangle.”
“Let’s wait and see,” said Dad. “Maybe you’ll get to play math games — like tic-tac-toe.”
Tic-tac-toe-nails! Judy made a mad face and slumped down in the seat some more. Dad didn’t get it. He didn’t have to spend his afternoon doing macaroni math and making geometry cats.
“We’re here!” Dad called cheerfully.
“Where’s here?” Judy asked in a moody tone.
“Colonial College,” said Dad.
“College?” asked Judy.
“That’s where you’ll get help with your math,” said Dad. “Your tutor is a college student.”
Judy bolted upright and threw her arms in the air. “I’m going to college!”
Judy followed Dad down the tree-lined sidewalks of the Colonial College campus, stepping on every crack she could find on purpose. They went past a duck pond with a fountain, a serious library with a clock tower, and a way-cool giant sculpture of bacon and eggs.