Junie B., First Grader_ Boss of Lunch - Barbara Park [5]
“There's not even anything to do in this stupid dumb house,” I grouched.
Then, all of a sudden, I spotted my backpack sitting on the floor.
That's when I remembered my plastic mitts!
I'd put them in my backpack to carry them home from school!
I hurried to get them out of there.
Then I quick put them on. And I ran to the refrigerator.
“Now I can practice touching food!” I said real thrilled.
I opened up the door and started touching stuff.
First, I touched some fruit, and an avocado, and a squishy tomato. Then I put my hand in the butter. And also some creamy cottage cheese.
“Whoa. These mitts make touching food enjoyable,” I said.
After I was done, I put the mitts in my pocket. And I went to watch TV. Only I couldn't even pay attention that good. ’Cause I kept on thinking about being a helper, of course.
My excitement got bigger and bigger.
Then hurray, hurray! Daddy finally came home from work! And it was time for dinner!
As soon as I sat down, I told Daddy all about Mrs. Gutzman.
Then surprise! I put on my mitts. And I waved my hands all around in the air.
“Look, Mother! Look, Daddy! See what Mrs. Gutzman gave me? These are real professional mitts from the actual cafeteria!”
I sat up straight and tall. “Mitts do not spread dirty germs,” I explained. “And guess what else? I already know how to use these babies.”
After that, I jumped down from my chair. And I ran around the table. And I touched everyone's dinner.
I touched Mother's meatloaf. And Daddy's mashed potatoes. And Ollie's creamed corn.
Also, I put creamed corn on Ollie's head.
That was a funny joke, I think. Only no one even laughed.
Mother took my mitts away.
She said that is not what mitts are for, young lady.
At first, I thought I was in very big trouble. But more good news!
When Mother and Daddy tucked me in bed that night, they gave me back my permission slip. And hurray! It was signed!
“We're going to let you help in the kitchen,” said Mother. “But no more funny business with the mitts. Got it?”
“Got it,” I said.
“A helper doesn't make things more difficult, Junie B.,” said Daddy. “A helper makes things easier. Okay?”
“Okay,” I said.
Mother made her eyes real serious. “And a helper is not the boss, Junie B.,” she said. “Maybe you should try repeating that one. A helper is not the boss.”
I repeated it.
“A helper is not the boss,” I said. “A helper is not the boss.”
After that, Mother and Daddy looked calmer. They kissed me good night and turned off my light.
I repeated it one more time.
“A helper is not the boss,” I said.
Then I closed my eyes.
And I went to sleep.
And I dreamed I was the boss.
It was the funnest dream I ever had.
I looked exactly like Mrs. Gutzman. Except I had my own face.
Also, I had my own apron. And my own plastic mitts. And my very own hair net.
I was a vision, I tell you!
I worked my hardest in the kitchen.
I washed all the carrots. And I made all the hoagies. Plus also, I ate all the sugar cookies.
After a while, Room One came into the kitchen with their trays.
The children saw how hard I was working.
They called me “Boss of Lunch.” And they skipped around me in a happy circle.
After that, they carried me all around on their shoulders.
May did not participate.
I waved at her when I went by.
Then a duck flew in and chased her out of the room.
That morning, I woke up laughing in my pillow.
And guess what else? At school, my day kept on getting better and better. Because I gave Mr. Scary my permission slip. And he let me go to the cafeteria at ten o'clock A.M.! And so I hardly even did much work!
Mrs. Gutzman was delighted to see me again.
She said I could start helping her very soon. But first she wanted to show me around the kitchen.
It was the hugest kitchen I ever even saw.
It was a kitchen a giant would have.
“Look at how big everything is, Mrs. Gutzman,” I said. “Look at that big dishwasher over there. And look at those big refrigerators! And whoa! Look at those big sinks! And that big giant freezer!”
I kept looking. “And look at that big can opener.