In a Mood
Backwards Day
The Jessica Experiment
Spaghetti Yeti
Weird, Weirder, Weirdest
Nanu Nanu
Bad-Mood Itch
Sour Balls
Saltwater Taffy
Purple People Eater
Judy Un-Moody
She, Judy Moody, was in a mood. A sourball mood. A mad-face mood. All because school pictures had come home that day.
If Stink came into her room, he would ask to see her school picture. And if he asked to see her school picture, he would see that she had been wearing her I AM GIRL, HEAR ME ROAR T-shirt. (The same one she wore today.) And if he saw her wearing her ROAR T-shirt in her school picture, he would also see that she looked like Sasquatch. With bird’s-nest hair in her face and in her eyes.
Mom and Dad were going to freak. “Just once we’d like to have a nice school picture of our girl,” Dad had said just this morning.
“Maybe this will be the year,” Mom had said.
But third grade was no different.
Judy spread out her school pictures on the floor. She looked like:
If only Mom and Dad would forget about school pictures this year. Fat chance. Maybe Judy could pretend the dog ate them! Too bad the Moodys didn’t have a dog. Only Mouse the cat. She could say that an evil school-picture bandit erased them from the master computer. Hardly.
To make things worse, Rocky had grabbed her Sasquatch picture in class and wouldn’t give it back. Then he passed it to Frank, which made Judy yelp and jump up out of her seat instead of doing her math. That’s when Mr. Todd said the A word.
Antarctica.
The desk in the back of the room where Judy had to go to chill out. For the third time that day! Never in the History of Judy had she been to Antarctica that many times in a row.
A donut-size sicky spot sat in her stomach just remembering it.
That’s why she, Judy Moody, was in a mood. A finger-knitting, don’t-think-about-school-pictures, need-to-be-alone mood. As in by herself. As in no stinky little brother to bug and bother her like a pesky mosquito. Bzzz! Stink was always in her ear.
Judy’s Number One Favorite Place to curl up with Mouse was on her top bunk, but Stink would for-sure find her there. She crawled over gobs of flip-flops and blobs of dirty clothes to her second favorite spot to be alone — the way-back of her closet. She popped a wad of Stink’s yard-long bubble gum in her mouth.
“Don’t look at me like that, Mouse. What Stink doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” She picked up a skein of gray-brown yarn and looped it around her thumb. Mouse batted the finger-knitting chain with her paw.
Over. Under. Over. Under. Back. Loop-de-loop-de-loop. Judy tugged on the long chain of apple-green yarn that dangled from her left hand. Her fingers flew. She, Judy Moody, was the fastest finger knitter in Frog Neck Lake, Virginia. The fastest finger knitter in the east. Probably the fastest in the whole wide world!
Finger knitting was the greatest — no knitting needles needed. She looped the yarn over her fingers, one, two, three, four, back, over, under, through . . . just like Grandma Lou had taught her during the big blackout of Hurricane Elmer.
Judy’s closet was like a secret little room all to herself. It even had a window. A small, round window just like the kind they had on ships. Sailing ships. Pirate ships.
The ship sailed across the blue ocean, bobbing on the waves under a sky full of marshmallow clouds. Judy and Mouse rocked back and forth as the ship’s hammock swung in the breeze. Until the ship hit a giant wave and . . .
Mouse overboard!
Judy tossed her chain of knitting to Mouse. She felt a tug on the line. It was —
“Stink!” Judy snapped out of her daydream. Her gum went flying. “You scared the bubble gum out of me!”
“Where’d you get that gum?” asked Stink.
“Nowhere. It’s ABC gum.” She picked it up and popped it back in. “How’d you find me, anyway?”
“I followed the chain of yarn.”
The long, colorful chain of finger knitting snaked across the bottom of her closet, climbed up and over piles of books and towers of toys, wound around Sock Mountain, and crept out the door.
“Well, bad idea. I’m in a mood.”
“How was I supposed to know?”
“Clues one, two, and three: those doohickeys that hang on the doorknob?”
“Oh. I thought you were going to say school pictures.”
“That, too.”
“Somebody’s in a mood.”
“Bingo!”
“Can I help it if I don’t go around reading doorknobs?”
“I have an idea,” said Judy. “Mom read me a book about Louisa May Alcott — ”
“Louisa May Who?”
“She’s only the most famous author of the most famous book in the world, Little Women.”
“Cool. Is it about miniature people? And do they live in matchboxes and take baths in thimbles and stuff? And do they know the Borrowers?”
“N-O! Anyhow, it’s a known fact that Louisa May had a lot of moods. Ask anyone. So she had this sausage pillow.”
“Weird.”
“A sausage pillow is a long skinny pillow. When it was standing up on end it meant she was happy and in a good mood — Come on in. But when it was lying down on its side, hoo boy, look out — Do not disturb, Louisa May was in a mood.”
Judy looked around and grabbed a fuzzy pillow. “See this pillow? This will be my mood pillow. It’ll be our signal. If the pillow’s sitting up, it means I’m in a good mood. Come on in. But if it’s lying down — Bad mood. Go away. Much better than a doorknob doohickey.”
“But what if the pillow was standing up and the window was open and a hurricane came and super-high winds blew down the pillow and knocked it on its side? Or what if a giant monster bigger than King Kong came and picked up our house and shook it like a toothpick and the pillow fell over?”
“Fine.” Judy plucked a marker from her pencil box. She set the pillow in her lap. On one side, she drew a happy face for good mood. On the other side, she drew a frowny face for bad mood.
“This will be my mood pillow. Happy face means Come on in. Frowny face means Go away.” Judy leaned the pillow against the wall — frowny face out. “The pillow has spoken, Stink.”
Stink made a face. “I get it. I get it. All I really wanted was to ask if I could use your markers.”
“In the pencil box, Stinkerbell.”
“I’m making a shirt for Backwards Day tomorrow.”
Backwards Day! Backwards Day was only Judy’s favorite day of the whole entire year, next to April Fools’ Day (her birthday) and Wear Purple for Peace Day.
Judy turned that mood pillow right around. The pillow smiled.
She had an idea for Backwards Day, too. A way-good idea. A not-bad-mood idea.
The next morning, Stink poked his head into Judy’s room. He had his baseball cap and his pants on backward. He was singing “Boat, boat, boat your row.” And he was wearing a T-shirt that said KNITS.
“Knits Moody. I like it,” said Judy. She held up her finger-knitting chain. “Hey! I could teach you to finger knit, Knits Moody.”
“KNITS is STINK spelled backward,” said Stink.
“Luck-y!” said Judy. “I wish my backward name was Knits.” She was searching for a hairbrush. That was clue number one about her Backwards Day idea.
“Hey, Judy. What has four legs and goes oom oom?”
“A hungry zebra?” Judy guessed.
“N-O! A cow on Backwards Day!”
Judy cracked up. “That’s funny, Knits.”
“Really? You mean it? Thanks! You never like my jokes.”
Pre
tending to like Stink’s joke was clue number two.
Stink ran to his room and came back with his yardstick of bubble gum. “Here. You can have this. There’s two and three-quarters inches of gum left.”
“Really?”
“For letting me use your markers. And for laughing at my joke.” Stink ran downstairs.
Clue number three: Judy peeled off her I AM GIRL, HEAR ME ROAR T-shirt and stuck it in her bottom drawer, then took her time choosing what to wear. When she was dressed, she checked herself out in the mirror. Once. Twice. Three times. Mirror, mirror, on the wall. Who’s the best backward of all?
Then Judy ran downstairs to grab her lunch.
Mom’s jaw dropped when she saw Judy. “Star spangled bananas!”
“Great Caesar’s ghost!” said Dad.
“What’s with your hair?” asked Stink. “Are you Cleopatra or something?”
“Nope. Don’t you get it?” Judy twirled around so her family could get the full effect.
Her hair was not a bird’s-nest mess. It was brushed — not one single bit Sasquatch. It was held back with real-and-actual bobby pins that would have made Nancy Drew, Girl Detective, proud. Judy’s clothes matched. Not a tiger stripe in sight. Not even a shark. Even her socks and shoes matched. And she wore only one watch.
“Let me guess,” cried Stink. “You’re Jessica Finch. Wait. I don’t get it. How is that backward?”
“I’m the opposite of me, Stink.”
“You look great, honey,” said Mom. “Thank you for brushing your hair.”
“I hardly know my own daughter,” said Dad.
“You’re backward every day, so on Backwards Day, you’re normal?” Stink asked.
“Something like that,” said Judy. She held out her mood-ring hand. “Check it out. I painted it with purple nail polish. My mood ring will remind me to be in a good mood all day.”
“Judy Goody-Goody,” said Stink.
“Good for you,” said Mom.
“You kids don’t want to be late for the sub,” said Dad.
“Huh?” said Stink.
“Very funny, Dad. Sub is backward for bus, Stink.” Judy ran out the door to the sub, holding her bobby pins in place.
When Judy and Rocky got to Class 3T, there was no Class 3T. It was Class 3D. The sign on the door now said: MR. DDOT’S ROOM. When they stepped inside, Mr. Todd’s desk was in the back of the room. Guinea pigs were in the front of the room. And the alphabet on the bulletin board started with a Z! A strange sentence was scribbled on the blackboard. MR. OWL ATE MY METAL WORM. Weird!
“Hey, Moody. Hey, Zang. What do you think?” asked Mr. Todd.
“Why are you calling me Zang?” asked Rocky.
“Calling us by our last names is backward!” said Judy. “Right, Mr. Todd?”
“And I’m Mr. Ddot for today.” Mr. Todd chuckled. He was wearing a shirt with polka dots. And his tie was on wrong. “How do you like my tie?”
“Weird and weirder,” said Rocky.
“Moody,” said Mr. Todd. “Something’s different.”
“My hair’s brushed and my clothes match and everything!” said Judy.
“Backward looks good on you,” said Mr. Todd.
Frank had his clothes on inside out, too. Even his backpack was inside out. Jessica Finch’s ponytail stood straight up in the air. “And I’m not wearing pink,” she said.
Amy Namey sat down next to Judy. She was wearing glasses on the back of her head. “Mr. Todd said I could be in your class today.”
“Backward!” said Judy.
Backwards Day was the best! Recess came first instead of after lunch.
In Spelling, they had to spell all the words backward. Judy’s word was racecar. “Racecar. R-A-C-E-C-A-R.” The room got super quiet. “Wait a second. It’s the same backward AND forward,” said Judy. “You tricked me!” Everybody cracked up.
“It’s called a palindrome,” said Mr. Todd. “Can anybody else think of a word that’s spelled the same backward and forward? Pearl?”
“Pop,” said Frank.
“Namey?”
“Toot,” said Amy.
“Graff?”
“Hannah,” said Hannah. Everybody cracked up more.
“Very good,” said Mr. Todd. He pointed to the strange sentence on the board. MR. OWL ATE MY METAL WORM. Jessica Finch raised her hand.
“Finch?”
“The whole sentence is the same backward and forward!” said Jessica.
“Wow. You figured that out so fast!” said Judy. Being extra nice to Jessica Finch was backward, too.
In Math, Mr. Todd gave them answers, and they had to figure out the questions. And in Silent Reading, they did not even have to be silent.
Class 3D-not-3T walked down the hall backward to the art room. All the art was hanging upside down! Then, they got to lie on the floor and draw on paper taped to the bottom of their desks.
At lunch, Judy sat with her friends. Jessica Finch came over with her hot lunch. “Your lunch is backward,” Judy said. “It’s breakfast!”
Rocky, Frank, and Amy opened their lunchboxes. Rocky looked at Frank. Frank looked at Amy. Amy looked at Judy.
“Don’t be mad,” said Frank.
Judy glanced at her mood ring. Purple. She remembered she was not going to get in a mood. “Why would I be mad?”
“String cheese,” said Rocky and Amy at the same time.
“Why would anybody be mad about string cheese?” Jessica asked.
“You don’t know about the String-Cheese Incident of Last Week?” Rocky asked. “See, Frank and Amy and I always have string cheese. We like to bend it and pull it apart and make stuff like cheese catapults.”
“And braid it sometimes,” said Amy. “And make bracelets.”
“Judy got in a mood because her food was no fun,” said Rocky.
“I never get string cheese,” said Judy.
“So one day last week, Judy grabbed my string cheese,” said Frank. “It flew halfway across the cafeteria. A kid slipped on it and Judy got in trouble with the Thursday Lunch Lady.”
“Everybody knows Thursday Lunch Lady is scary,” said Jessica.
“Hello! It’s Backwards Day. I’m doing everything backward, so I am NOT going to get in a mood about string cheese. I am not going to get in a mood all day.”
“All day?” said Rocky.
“The whole day?” said Amy and Frank.
“All day. The whole day.”
“Phew,” said Rocky.
“Phew,” said Amy and Frank.
“Is that why you were nice to me in Spelling?” Jessica asked. Judy just smiled.
Judy’s friends took out their string cheese.
Jessica pulled a pink straw from her backpack. “It’s a Magic Straw. It turns plain white milk into pink strawberry milk, like magic.”
“Rare,” said Judy. She pulled the string on the edge of her boring old baloney. She sipped her boring old not-magic milk. But she did not get in a mood. If only she had some yarn. Some green-with-envy finger-knitting yarn.
On the playground, Judy wanted to jump rope backward, but she was afraid it might mess up her bobby-pinned hair. In the classroom, she organized her desk. Books on the left, notebooks on the right. She made a folder for IN-CLASS work and a folder for HOMEWORK. She even made some Grouchy pencils UN-Grouchy. When she was done, she emptied the pencil sharpener without being asked.
She did not let herself get in a bad mood all day. She did not call Jessica “Fink-Face Finch.” Not even when Jessica got three whole Third-Grade Rock Star stickers. Judy did not go to Antarctica, not even once!
Judy’s mood ring stayed purple all day. The whole day. A spot of nail polish peeled off and Judy could tell that it was purple underneath. For real!
At the end of the day, Mr. Todd said, “Great job today, Judy. Keep up the good work. And the good moods!” She earned three Good Work tickets. That would buy three Peace, Love, and Third Grade stickers. Or a peace sign pencil!
S
he, Judy Moody, was the First Lady of Backwards Day, Queen of the Good Mood. In fact, Backwards Day was so great it gave her an idea. What if she kept on being backward for a week? If she could be in a good mood for one whole entire day, why not double-dare herself to be in a good mood for one whole entire week?
It would be like a contest. A stay-out-of-Antarctica contest with herself. A game, a quiz, a mini world record that only she knew about.
A secret with Me, Myself, and I.
One thing was for sure and absolute positive — it was not going to be easy- Parcheesi. So, just in case she flunk-flub-failed, she would not tell anybody.
Not even Rocky. Not even Frank. Definitely not Stink.
If nobody knew, nobody could say I told you so. Her friends, her parents, and her teachers were going to be A-plus amazed.
Look out, world. Meet the new-and-improved, NOT-moody Judy!
If she, Judy Moody, was going to be in a good mood for one whole entire week, she was going to need info. As in hints. Tips. Ideas.
On the bus ride home, Judy asked her friends, “Hey, guys. What puts you in a good mood?”
“When I do a really good magic trick, like the Fake Finger trick,” said Rocky. He pulled his index finger, pretending to yank it off. “If everybody claps and is amazed, it puts me in a good mood.”
“Uh-huh,” Judy scribbled a Note to Self.
“I get in a good mood when I’m done with my homework,” said Frank.
“Uh-huh, uh-huh.” Judy looked at her notes.
Next it was Amy’s turn. “Writing stories puts me in a good mood. I dream stuff up and make it into a book and illustrate it.”
Judy scribbled some more. She looked at her notes.
1. Magic trick
2. Homework
3. Write a story
“I can do this,” said Judy.
“Do what?” asked Amy.
“Do what?” asked Rocky and Frank.
“Um . . . nothing. Never mind.”
Judy ran home and took out her list. Magic Trick. She tried a magic card trick on Stink. But all she did was spill the deck of cards everywhere. Homework. Judy did not see how homework would put her in a good mood. She crossed it off the list. Write story. Judy tried to write a story.
Judy Moody, Mood Martian Page 1
