Junie B. Jones and the Yucky Blucky Fruitcake - Barbara Park [3]
Then Paulie Allen Puffer told about carnival food that he threw up, too.
Like a candy apple.
And caramel popcorn.
And a rubber band.
Except for that is not food. That is office supplies.
I raised my hand. “Carnivals are rip-offs,” I said. “’Cause one time my daddy kept on trying to knock over three bottles with a ball. But even when he hit them, they wouldn’t fall down. So then he and Mother had to call the cops. And also Eyewitness News at Six and Ten.”
Mrs. laughed out loud.
“Yeah, only that is not a laughing matter,” I told her.
She stopped smiling.
“No. Of course it isn’t,” she said. “But I promise that nothing like that will happen at our school’s Carnival Night, Junie B. All the games are going to be run by the parents and teachers. And there will be hundreds of prizes to win.”
I sat up a little bit straighter.
“Hundreds?” I said.
“Hundreds,” she said.
“Yeah, only I don’t even know how to win them,” I said.
And so Mrs. got out a piece of paper that told all about the carnival games.
“Well, let’s see,” she said. “It says there will be a Fishing Booth, a Penny Toss, a Moon Walk Tent, a Putting Green, Clothespins in the Bottle, a Basketball Shoot, a Ring Toss, and a booth where you can throw wet sponges at our principal’s face.”
Just then Room Nine started laughing very much. ’Cause throwing sponges at Principal is a dream come true, that’s why.
Mrs. kept on reading. “It also says that Mrs. Hall, the art teacher, will be painting faces in the art room. And in our very own Room Nine, there is going to be a Cake Walk.”
I jumped right out of my chair.
“Hey! Guess what? Walking on cake is the funnest thing I love! ’Cause one time at a picnic, I stepped on my grampa’s Little Debbie snack cake with bare feet. And the creamy filling was very squishing between my toes!”
“GOONIE!” shouted out that Jim I hate. “YOU GOONIE BIRD JONES! YOU DON’T WALK ON CAKE! A CAKE WALK IS A GAME WHERE YOU WIN A CAKE! RIGHT, TEACHER? RIGHT?”
Mrs. made squinting eyes at him.
“Yes, Jim. But we do not call people goonie birds. Calling people names is rude. Plus—if you want to make a comment—I would appreciate it if you would politely raise your hand.”
“LIKE ME! RIGHT, MRS.?” I hollered out. “’CAUSE I RAISED MY HAND VERY POLITE WHEN I TOLD YOU THAT CARNIVALS WERE RIP-OFFS! REMEMBER THAT?”
Then a lot of other kids shouted that they were very polite, too.
And so I had to stand up on my chair so Mrs. could hear me.
“YEAH, ONLY THEY CAN’T BE AS POLITE AS ME! RIGHT, MRS.? ’CAUSE I SAID IT FIRST! RIGHT? RIGHT?”
Then Mrs. rubbed her head for a very long time.
And also she took some aspirin.
4/Very Practicing
After school, I runned all the way home from my bus stop. That’s because Grandma Miller baby-sits me in the afternoon. And I wanted to tell her all about Carnival Night!
“HEY, GRANDMA MILLER! IT’S ME! IT’S JUNIE B. JONES! YOUR GRANDGIRL! I’VE GOT SOME IMPORTANT NEWS FOR YOU! THERE’S GONNA BE A CARNIVAL AT MY SCHOOL! AND I CAN WIN A HUNDRED PRIZES AT THAT THING!”
Grandma Miller hurried out of baby Ollie’s room. She looked grumpity at me.
“Shh! Junie B.! Not so loud! I just put the baby down for his nap!”
My shoulders got very slumping.
“Yeah, only I’m excited down here, Helen,” I said.
Then Grandma smiled a little bit.
And she hugged me hello.
And she said not to call her Helen.
“Yeah, only I didn’t even tell you the bestest part yet!” I said. “’Cause Mrs. read me the kind of games they’re going to play. And so now I can practice them at home. And I will be the bestest game winner of anyone!”
I hurried to the laundry room to get the clothespins.
“They’re gonna have a game where you drop clothespins in a bottle!” I hollered to Grandma. “Except for I can’t find a bottle in this whole big laundry room. So I’m just gonna drop these clothespins in a bucket. ’Cause that will give me the feel of it, I think!”
I got the bucket away from the mop. Then I dropped all of my clothespins right in that thing.
“Hey, Grandma! I did it! I did it! I dropped every single clothespin