The Judy Moody Double-Rare Collection - Megan Mcdonald [31]
“Just like doctors!” Judy said.
When they were done, they each got to blow-dry their guinea pigs.
“Nutmeg’s ready for a party!” said Judy, stroking the guinea pig’s fur. Jessica got Cindy to roll over twice, and Coco twitched her whiskers at Cornflake, Judy’s stuffed guinea pig.
“That means hello in guinea pig,” said Jessica. “She’s trying to make friends!” Everybody cracked up.
Nutmeg squirmed out of Judy’s arms and ran in circles around her room.
“Uh-oh!” said Jessica. Nutmeg ran around Judy’s floor pillow. She ran around Ned Bear, Ted Bear, and Fred Bear, the trash can, and Judy’s doctor kit. She ran around and around Judy’s squiggle rug.
“Catch her!” said Stink.
Everybody chased Nutmeg. Even Mouse. Nutmeg hid under Judy’s squiggle rug. Jessica caught her with an ice-cream container.
“Phew! That was a close one, girl,” said Judy, rubbing the guinea pig’s tummy. “Hey, look! Nutmeg likes tummy rubs!”
“She likes you,” said Jessica.
“Aw. I wish I could keep her forever and ever,” said Judy. “I promise not to clone her.”
“She’s still too young,” said Jessica. “But when the Spice Girls get older, my dad says we can take them to the hospital for Paws for Healing. You know, help some more kids feel better.”
“RARE!” said Judy.
When everybody had gone home, Judy climbed back under the covers and leaned against all her stuffed animals. She was feeling not-so-sick-anymore. Her tonsils did not feel so lumpy. She, Judy Moody, did not feel so grumpy. Friends were better than prunes. Friends were better than medicine. Friends were better than all the ginger ale, ABC toast, and TV in the world.
Her temperature was dropping. So was her blood pressure. Her tonsils were shrinking fast. Most definitely!
Judy Moody took out her mood journal. She wrote herself a poem. A moody poem. A Mumpty Dumpty poem.
Judy took out her doctor pad. She, Dr. Judy Moody, wrote herself a prescription.
Last but not least, Judy signed her name with a scribbly doctor autograph.
Who’s Who
Bean Town, MOO-sa-chu-setts
Freedom (from Stink) Trail
Sugar and Spies
In a Nark
The Purse of Happiness
Huzzah!
The UN-Freedom Trail
The Boston Tub Party
Sybil La-Dee-Da
The Declaration of UN-Independence
Yankee Doodle Dandy
10 Things You May Not Know About Megan McDonald
10 Things You May Not Know About Peter H. Reynolds
HEAR YE! HEAR YE!
She, Judy Moody, was in Boston! Bean Town! As in Mas-sa-chu-setts. As in the Cradle of Liberty, Birthplace of Ben Famous Franklin and Paul Revere. Land of the Boston Tea Party and the Declaration of Independence.
“Boston rules,” said Judy.
Three best things about Boston so far were:
1. Freedom from two whole days of school (including one spelling test, two nights of homework, and a three-page book report)
2. Freedom from riding in the car next to Stink for ten million hours
3. Freedom from brushing hair every day
She, Judy Moody, Rider of the First Subway in America, was finally on her way to the real-and-actual Freedom Trail! The place where her country started. Where it all began.
The American Revolution! The Declaration of Independence! Freedom!
R A R E !
Judy and her family climbed up the stairs and out into the fresh air, heading for the information booth on Boston Common, where Dad bought a guide to the Freedom Trail.
“Did you know there used to be cows right here in this park?” asked Stink. “It says so on that sign.”
“Welcome to MOO-sa-chu-setts!” announced Judy. She cracked herself up. If Rocky or Frank Pearl were here, they’d crack up, too.
“Just think,” Judy told Stink. “Right now, this very minute, while I am about to follow in the footsteps of freedom, Mr. Todd is probably giving Class 3T a spelling test back in Virginia. Nineteen number-two pencil erasers are being chewed right this very second.”
“You’re lucky. I had to miss Backwards Shirt Day today.”
“The trail starts right here at Boston Common,” Dad said.
“Can we go look at ducks?” asked Stink. “Or frogs? On the