The Judy Moody Double-Rare Collection - Megan Mcdonald [39]
She, Judy Moodington, did not have a horse.
And she would never in a million years be allowed to stay up past midnight.
Crumb cakes! She’d just have to be responsible right here in her very own house, 117 Croaker Road. Starting N-O-W.
Judy went from room to room all over the upstairs. She picked stuff up, put stuff away, hid stuff in the closet. Downstairs, she picked up one cat-hair fur ball, two giant lint balls, her basketball, Stink’s soccer ball, and Mouse’s jingle ball.
Being responsible sure made a person hungry.
Judy stopped to eat some peanut butter with a spoon (not her finger!) out of the jar. She stopped to feed Mouse (not peanut butter) and empty out the litter box (P.U!). She stopped to do some homework (without one single peanut-butter fingerprint!).
Mom and Dad were always bugging her to be nice to Stink, so she went up to his room to be nice. She looked on his desk. She looked under his bed.
“What are you looking for?” asked Stink.
“I’m looking for something nice to say,” said Judy. “I like that ant farm poster on your wall.”
“You gave it to me,” said Stink.
“Well, um . . . your hair looks good.”
“Did you put something in my hair?” Stink shook his head. “Eeww, get it out!”
“Stink! Nothing’s in your hair. Not even a spider.”
Stink plucked at his hair like a dog with fleas.
“I said not even! I was just trying to be nice.”
Judy never knew independent people had to be so nice. And so clean. But wouldn’t Mom and Dad be surprised when they saw all the stuff she could do on her own? Without anybody telling her she had to. She, Judy Moody, would be Independent-with-a-capital-I. Just like Sybil Ludington. For sure and absolute positive.
Judy traced her feet onto red construction paper. Snip, snip, snip! She made a trail of red footprints all through the house. Not a messy, drop-your-stuff-everywhere trail. An independent, show-how-responsible-you-are trail. She even made signs for each stop along the way, just like the real Freedom Trail.
Now all she had to do was find Mom and Dad and Stink.
“The trail starts here,” said Judy. She pointed to the sign in front of a wilted, half-dead plant: YE OLDE LIBERTY TREE.
“First I’ll make a speech at Ye Olde Liberty Tree. Hear ye! Hear ye!” called Judy, jingling Mouse again. “Give me liberty or give me more allowance!” Mom and Dad laughed. Stink snorted.
“Listen, ye olde trail people. I’m Judy. I’ll be your tour guide. Follow the red footprints to freedom!” Judy led her family from room to room.
On the dining room table, it said, JUDY MOODY DID HOMEWORK HERE.
“I do my homework there every day,” said Stink. Judy gave him ye olde hairy eyeball.
On the kitchen floor, Judy pointed to a sign that said, JUDY MOODY FED MOUSE HERE.
“Isn’t that one of your chores already?” asked Dad.
“Yes,” said Judy. “But nobody had to remind me to do it.”
She pointed to the kitchen table: JUDY MOODY ATE PEANUT BUTTER HERE.
“I don’t get it,” said Stink.
“I ate it with a spoon, not my fingers, and I didn’t eat any in my room or get it on stuff,” said Judy.
Judy opened the door to the laundry room: JUDY MOODY PICKED UP LINT BALLS HERE. She opened the door to the downstairs bathroom: JUDY MOODY WASHED THE SOAP HERE.
“I hate the dope who thought up soap,” Stink recited, cracking himself up. “I wish he’d eat it. I repeat it. Eat it.”
Stink was not helping on the trail to freedom one bit. “Stink, stop saying stuff,” said Judy.
“It’s a free country,” said Stink.
They followed the red footprints up the stairs to Judy’s room. A sign on the bottom bunk said, JUDY MOODY MADE THE BED HERE. One on the top bunk said, PRIVATE! DON’T LOOK UP HERE.
“What are all those lumps up there?” asked Stink.
“Next stop, Stink’s room,” said the tour guide. His door had a sign taped to it: JUDY MOODY WAS NICE TO STINK HERE.
“Were not!” said Stink.
“Was too!” said Judy.
“Ha!” said Stink. “You told me I had a spider in my hair!”
“Last but not least, the big