by Raymond Bean
Copyright © 2013 Raymond Bean
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1481106333
ISBN 13: 9781481106337
www.raymondbean.com
Raymond Bean books
Baseball: A Ticket to the Bigs
Sweet Farts Series
Sweet Farts #1
Sweet Farts #2 Rippin’ It Old School
Sweet Farts #3 Blown Away
School Is A Nightmare Series
School Is A Nightmare #1 First Week, Worst Week
School Is A Nightmare #2 The Field Trip
School Is A Nightmare #3 Shocktober
School Is A Nightmare #4 Yuck Mouth and the Thanksgiving Miracle
School Is A Nightmare – Quadzilla (Books 1-4) Special Edition
School Is A Nightmare #5 Winter Breakdown (Coming Fall 2013)
School Is A Nightmare #6 Cupid’s Crush (Coming Winter 2014)
For Stacy, Ethan, and Chloe
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Contents
1. The Powdered Sugar Situation
2. She’s the Worst
3. Hum
4. Christmas Bust
5. Whistling Bill
6. When Are We Leaving?
7. Hogwash
8. Git Up
9. You Look Like You Got Punched
10. The Flight Fright
11. Totally Unbelievable
12. Gertrude
13. Lizard Mania
14. Dive Bomb
15. Trust Me
16. No Worries
17. Grounded In Paradise
18. I Wonder Where He Learned That?
19. Just Send It
20. It’s Totally Not My Fault!
1
The Powdered Sugar Situation
If you ask me, winter break is by far the best break of the entire school year. I get a bunch of days off, a ton of presents, and I stay up super late on New Year’s Eve. The final Friday before the start of the break had finally arrived after weeks of waiting, and my class party was in full swing when it happened.
A bunch of the moms came in to make a craft and feed us a ton of holiday snacks. There were so many different types of holiday cookies it was ridiculous. By the middle of the craft, the energy level in the class was through the roof.
I was about three cookies in when Bobby Thorton said, “I can totally eat more cookies than you.”
“You wish,” I said, popping another into my mouth.
“What do you want to bet?” he asked.
“I guess that depends on what you’re prepared to lose,” I said confidently.
Bobby Thorton was new to the school and way more fun than the rest of the kids in my class. He held up a five-dollar bill. “Five bucks,” he mumbled, his mouth full of cookie.
“Five bucks it is,” I mumbled back.
My teacher, the dreaded Mrs. Cliff, passed by our desks and gave me a dirty look. I smiled, my cheeks bulging with cookie.
“Don’t overdo it, boys,” she warned.
“No need to worry, Mrs. Cliff,” Bobby assured her.
“I’m glad you’re having fun, Bobby,” she said, walking toward the other side of the room.
Bobby was too new to fully appreciate how awful she was. It had only been about two weeks since he moved to our school. Mrs. Cliff really enjoyed the holiday season, and she’d been especially nice for the weeks he’d been in the class. I tried to warn him not to get used to it. He’d get to know the real Mrs. Cliff after the holidays passed.
“I don’t know why you don’t like her. She’s pretty awesome if you ask me,” he said.
I almost choked on my gingerbread man. “Give it some time. What you’re seeing is holiday cheer.”
“I don’t know. She’s been really nice to me.”
“Let’s talk around Martin Luther King Day in January. I’m sure you’ll be ready to move back to wherever you came from by then.”
Bobby laughed, and the powdered sugar on his cookie puffed out a tiny cloud of smoke.
“Awesome!” I said, picking up a powdered cookie from my plate and blowing on it. Another small powdered sugar cloud puffed out in front of us.
“Totally!” he said, blowing on his again.
The other kids at our table did the same, and before I knew it, kids all over the class were doing it too. The moms and Mrs. Cliff were too busy talking about their holiday plans to notice. I blew a puff toward Ben, who was sitting right across from me. He blew a puff back at me, and pretty soon, my entire table was blowing powdered sugar at each other. Without warning, they all turned on me and blew at the same time. A massive cloud of sugar filled the air. I breathed in a sweet gulp that choked me. They blew another cloud, and I hit the deck, trying to hide under my table, but instead I smacked my chin off the edge of my desk and fell to the floor.
It’s funny how a class can change from complete craziness to complete silence in the blink of an eye when someone gets hurt. I must have hit my chin pretty hard because I don’t really remember falling to the floor. One second I was in my chair, and the next I was down with the pencil shavings and Mrs. Cliff was helping me up.
“What’s going on over here?” she barked.
“He smacked his chin off the desk pretty hard,” Bobby said.
“You’re lucky you didn’t really hurt yourself,” she said. “I don’t appreciate that you’ve turned Mrs. Blane’s powdered sugar cookies into a toy.”
“It wasn’t just me!” I pleaded. “Everyone was doing it.”
The kids at my table looked shocked. Ben’s mouth dropped as though he’d seen a ghost, and Bobby’s eyes bulged out like a frog’s.
“Don’t act so surprised, guys. You know you were doing it too,” I said.
“It’s not that,” Bobby said. “You totally cracked your front tooth!”
I ran my finger along the place where my front tooth used to be, and a big chunk was missing.
“Take him to the nurse!” Mrs. Cliff shouted.
2
She’s the Worst
By the time I returned from the nurse, the party was over, and the cookies were all gone. The only thing left on my desk was a thin layer of powdered sugar. My mom and dad were both at work, and it would take them at least an hour to pick me up and bring me to the dentist.
The class was working on a reading packet about different winter holidays. It was really thick! The kids were super quiet and working way too hard for the day before the winter break.
“What’s this all about?” I whispered to Bobby, pointing at the packet.
Mrs. Cliff appeared behind me out of nowhere like the Grim Reaper. “That’s our winter break assignment,” she answered. “How is your tooth?”
“It’s fine. The nurse said my mom is going to pick me up at the end of the day to take me to the dentist. Do we have to finish this whole thing before we leave today?” I asked.
“Of course not,” she said, smiling.
“Thank goodness. I thought you were going say we had to do it all today.”
“No, you have until January second to complete the assignment.”
My heart almost stopped. I flipped through the packet. It had to be thirty pages, double-sided! The other kids didn’t even look up, they were so busy working.
“I don’t think so,” I said. Immediately I knew I’d made a mistake.
“Excuse me?” Mrs. Cliff said, narrowing her eyes.
“I don’t think my parents are going to be cool with this. We’ll be pretty busy over the break.”
“You can make time
,” she said, her eyes squinting the way they do when she’s annoyed.
“What happens if I don’t get it done?” I asked.
“Failure is not an option,” she said. “It contains a plethora of interesting holiday information from cultures around the world. There’s some great reading and a little research you’ll need to complete. Without that packet, your worldview of winter holidays around the world will be utterly limited.”
“Research!” I blurted out.
I didn’t hear a word of the other stuff she mentioned, but research? I couldn’t believe my own ears. Bobby kicked me under the desk to snap me out of the certain destruction awaiting me. I ignored it. I’d waited months for the winter break to arrive, and Mrs. Cliff expected me to spend it finishing a mountain of work for her. I ran my tongue along my cracked tooth again, and something in me snapped.
“I told you she’s awful,” I whispered to Bobby, but not quite low enough, because everyone, including Mrs. Cliff, heard me. An eerie silence fell over the class like in a horror movie right before something jumps out at you.
“Are you referring to me?” Mrs. Cliff asked.
The silence deepened. No one took a breath.
There was a split second for me to recover and make up some excuse. I should have said something like “Of course not” or “Don’t be silly” or anything else that would have kept me out of trouble, but I was beyond the point of return. I’d lost touch with clear thought and common sense, so I didn’t say anything like that at all.
Instead, I said, “You bet!”
Mrs. Cliff looked like a volcano ready to blow its top. If it were a cartoon, black smoke would have whistled out of her ears.
3
Hum
When Mom picked me up at the end of the day, I was sitting in the “trouble chair” in the office while Mom talked with Mrs. Cliff and then the nurse. It was terrible because everyone else seemed to be in the best moods ever as they marched out to the buses and got picked up by their parents.
My sisters, Becky and Mindy, sat on either side of me.
“Unbelievable!” Becky said.
“Truly!” Mindy replied.
“Let’s see the tooth,” Becky said.
I didn’t look at her.
“You’ll have to show us sooner or later,” Mindy said.
“I guess we know what you’ll be asking for for Christmas this year,” Becky said.
“Seriously! I know you like the song ‘All I Want for Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth,’ but this is ridiculous,” Mindy said, chuckling, when Mom appeared with Mrs. Cliff.
“Justin, I think you have something you want to say to Mrs. Cliff,” she said, nodding toward her.
The girls were eating it up. Here they were, witnessing one of my most embarrassing moments and loving every minute of it.
“Justin,” Mom repeated. “We’re waiting.”
“I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry,” I said, noticing that every time I made the s sound, my tooth whistled. The girls covered their mouths to keep from laughing.
“I accept your apology. The holiday stress can get the best of us sometimes,” Mrs. Cliff said. “I hope you have a nice holiday and hope your tooth is fixed up like new.”
I couldn’t believe she was so nice and forgiving. It wasn’t like her.
“Again, I’m so incredibly sorry, Mrs. Cliff,” Mom said. “Justin’s father and I will handle this, and Justin will be punished appropriately at home. We wish you a happy holiday.” She turned toward me. “Let’s go, Justin.”
Mom walked ahead of me down the path leading to the parking lot. The girls walked behind me humming “All I Want for Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth.”
4
Christmas Bust
Mom drove me straight to the dentist. The four of us sat in the waiting room for what seemed like forever. I couldn’t believe how many people were at the dentist on the Friday before Christmas. The place was absolutely packed.
By the time they called me, it was almost five o’clock. Mom hadn’t said a word to me since we left the school. I knew that the longer Mom gave me the silent treatment, the worse my situation. She’d been mad at me in the past, but not like this. I’d definitely reached a new level of anger and frustration with her.
“What seems to be the problem, Justin?” the dentist said when it was finally my turn, pointing to the chair.
“I chipped my tooth at school.”
“Let’s have a look,” she said, so I hopped into the chair and opened up.
Mom was shaking her head in disbelief, and the girls were still covering their mouths to keep from laughing.
“How’d you pull that off?” the dentist asked.
“Powdered sugar,” I said, and the way “sugar” whistled out of me made the girls lose it and burst out laughing. I think the dentist may have laughed a bit too.
Then Mom said, “We’ve had a long day, and with the holidays only a few days away, we need Justin’s tooth fixed today. Can you do it?”
“I can do my best, but he’ll have to be really careful with what he eats. Anything chewy or really hard will pull the cap I’m putting in right back out. Since it’s a permanent tooth, this is something you’ll have for the rest of your life, Justin.”
Mom looked as if she might faint. She shook her head some more and sat down on the chair against the wall. “How much is this going to cost?” she asked.
“Probably about five hundred, but we can put you on a payment plan if you don’t want to pay today,” the dentist said.
That’s when Mom finally spoke to me. “Well, Justin, would you like to pay in cash, or should they put you on a payment plan?”
“Me?” I asked.
“You were the one who managed to chip your front tooth eating a cookie at a holiday party. You were the one who decided today was a good day to insult your teacher in front of the entire class. So, yes, I am asking you how you would like to pay for this.”
The girls looked as if they might burst.
“Don’t you think we should talk to Dad about this first?” I asked.
“No, I don’t,” Mom said. “You’re paying, kiddo.”
“Can’t I leave it?” I asked. “It’s not that bad.” I grinned into the mirror next to my chair. It was pretty bad, but I didn’t want to admit it.
“It’s that bad,” Mindy said.
“Complete disaster,” Becky added.
“Cash or payment plan?” the dentist asked. “I have a jammed lobby out there.”
I lay back in the chair, giving up. “Bill me,” I said and opened wide.
“Maybe you can sell some of your Christmas presents to help pay for it,” Mindy said.
I wanted to say something, but luckily for her, the dentist’s fingers were already in my mouth. It was not how I’d expected to spend the first hour of the winter break.
Becky took a picture of me when Mom wasn’t looking. “For the holiday photo album,” she teased.
5
Whistling Bill
That night when we got home, I went straight to my room.
“No video games or TV,” my mom called. “You’re grounded until further notice. Why don’t you get started on that packet Mrs. Cliff wants you to complete?”
“No!” I called back. “It’s the first night of the break. I need to relax. Plus, my tooth hurts.” I exaggerated. It felt a little weird, but it didn’t really hurt.
“You’re working on that packet tonight or going straight to bed!”
“Fine!” I plunked down into my desk chair and opened the packet. I tried to read the first article about how different cultures around the world have different traditions for Christmas, but there was no way to focus. My mind kept replaying what I’d said to Mrs. Cliff.
After about an hour, I went downstairs and sat at the counter in the kitchen.
“What were you thinking?” Dad asked, taking a bite out of his apple.
“Don’t ask.”
“Who does that? Do
other kids talk that way to their teachers?” he asked.
“Nope!” Becky interrupted.
“I’ve never heard of such disrespect,” Mindy said.
“Cut it out!” I demanded.
“That’s enough, girls,” Mom said. “Give me and your father a few minutes alone with your brother, Whistling Bill.”
The girls ran for the back door and went outside to play.
“It really wasn’t that big of a deal,” I said.
“It was absolutely a big deal,” Mom disagreed.
“You’re grounded until Christmas. That’s a pretty big deal in my book,” Dad said. “I spoke with Mrs. Cliff after work. She was really upset and thinks you have a problem with authority.”
“I don’t,” I said, wondering what that even means.
“She thinks you can’t handle it when you don’t get your way and you have a problem following rules. Were you really having a cookie-eating contest when you chipped your tooth?”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t my idea.”
“It doesn’t matter whose idea it was,” Mom said. “You should know better. Who has a cookie-eating contest at a holiday party anyway?”
I decided it was better to simply listen. My parents were really mad, and when they get that upset, there’s nothing I can say that will make it better. I know I’m not going to change their minds, so I listen and nod a lot. Sometimes my dad goes on and on and on, and I just keep nodding and try to make eye contact to make it look I’m listening, but I’m not.
They seemed to be talking forever. Their voices blended into a mumble until I heard the words “return some of your Christmas presents.”
“What’s that now?” I asked, returning to the conversation.
“We’re going to have to return some of the things we bought you for Christmas,” Mom said. “You can’t behave like you did and then expect to go without a punishment. Your timing couldn’t be worse.”
“I’ll take a punishment, but don’t take away my gifts! It’s Christmas, for goodness sake.”
“Sorry, pal. Your mother’s right. If you’re talking back to teachers in fourth grade, who knows what you’ll be up to in middle school and high school? Expect a light Christmas from us this year.”
