Junie B., First Grader_ Boss of Lunch - Barbara Park [1]
Mr. Scary quick pulled his shoe away.
“No, Junie B. No spit. Please. Just sit up,” he said.
I sat up.
Mr. Scary stared and stared at me.
I wiggled in my seat very uncomfortable. ’Cause staring teachers make me squirmy, of course.
Finally, Mr. Scary talked again.
“I want you to stay out of your lunch box, Junie B.,” he said. “We have a rule in Room One. Lunch boxes are to be opened only in the cafeteria.”
I did a sad sigh.
“Yes,” I said. “I know the rule, Mr. Scary. But I waited a real long time to get this lunch box. And yesterday it finally came to my house. And so today is my first day of not carrying a plain brown sack to school. And so every time I look at that new lunch box, I feel happy inside.”
I picked it up to show him.
“See how cute it is?” I said. “My mother ordered it from a nature store. It has pictures of baby birds on it. See all of them?”
I pointed. “This one is my favorite,” I said. “It is called an owlet. Owlet is the name for a baby owl. My grampa Frank Miller told me that.”
I pointed at a different bird. “That one is an eaglet,” I said. “An eaglet is a baby eagle.”
After that, I held my lunch box way high in the air so all of Room One could see it.
“See all the birdlets, children? There are owlets and eaglets and ducklets and chicklets,” I explained.
I put my lunch box on my desk. And I took out the thermos.
“And see this thermos, people? This thermos has pictures of bird nests on it. Isn't that cute?”
May made a face.
“Ick,” she said. “Who wants to drink out of a stinky, pooey bird's nest?”
I made a face at her. “I do, that's who, May!” I said. “I love drinking out of stinky, pooey birds’ nests.”
May reached into her desk and pulled out a lunch ticket.
“Well, I buy my lunch, Junie Jones,” she said. “Bought lunches are much better than brought lunches. Bought lunches don't sit around all morning and get soggy.”
I crossed my arms at that girl.
“That's the dumbest thing I ever heard of, May,” I said right back. “Brought lunches are way better than bought lunches. ’Cause brought lunches are made special by our very own mothers!”
Mr. Scary did a frown. “Okay, okay, girls … that's enough,” he said.
But May kept on arguing with me.
“For your information, Junie Jones, mothers are not professional lunch makers,” she said. “Mothers are just plain old normal people.”
I stamped my foot at her. ’Cause that was my final straw!
“Do not call my mother normal, May!” I hollered. “No one in my whole entire family is normal! So there!”
May started to laugh.
Then some of the other children laughed, too.
I do not know why.
Finally, Mr. Scary snapped his fingers at them.
I put my lunch box back on the floor.
It was not my best morning.
The lunch bell rang at twelve o'clock.
Twelve o'clock is around noonish, I believe.
I picked up my lunch box and ran to the door. Then I lined up with my friends. And I waited to go.
“It's almost time,” I told them very thrilled. “It's almost time for me to eat out of my brand-new lunch box!”
I held it up for them to see again.
“Which baby bird do you guys like the best?” I asked. “Pick one, okay?”
My friend named José looked at the birds and shrugged his shoulders.
“I don't know. I guess maybe I like the duck best,” he said. “Ducks can be funny sometimes. One time—when we were having a picnic at the lake—a duck chased my sister and stole her Ho-Ho.”
My friends Lennie and Herb laughed real hard. They looked at my lunch box, too.
“I think I like the owlet the best,” said Herb.
“Me too,” said Lennie. “I saw a TV show on owls once. And an owl swallowed a giant rat in just one bite. He didn't even chew or anything.”
After that, I stared at Lennie a real long time.
’Cause that disgusting story just ruined my owlet, that's why.
Finally, all of Room One walked to the cafeteria together.
The cafeteria is a big room where we eat lunch. It has smells and noise and tables in it.
Room One sits near the window.
I zoomed there speedy quick.
“Come, Herb!” I called. “Come, Lennie and José! It's time for you to watch me