by Jeff Kinney
Rodrick is actually pretty fast, and Dad couldn’t
catch him. Then Dad tripped over a curb and
twisted his ankle.
trip
So Rodrick had to drive Dad to the emergency
room. When the doctor asked Dad how he hurt
his ankle, Dad said he wasn’t looking where he was
going and he stepped on one of Manny’s trucks in
the driveway.
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I can kind of understand why Dad didn’t want
to tell the truth. One time I broke my wrist,
and I told everyone I broke it in a fistfight.
What REALLY happened was that I tried to
stand up after my legs fell asleep from sitting on
the toilet too long. But I liked my version better.
wuuuh?
So it’s only been a few days without Mom, and
things are already starting to fall apart. We’ve
got one serious injury so far, and who knows
what’s in store down the road.
Thursday
We brought back leftovers from the Spaghetti
Barn, and that’s what we had for dinner
tonight. Dad had to stay late at work, so he
called Rodrick and told him to warm up everyone’s
spaghetti in the microwave.
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Rodrick gave me my plate first, and when he did,
he said—
careful, it’s
very hot!
smack
smack
I blew on my spaghetti for a while to cool it
down. But what I didn’t know was that Rodrick
never actually heated my spaghetti in the
microwave—he just pretended to.
So when I bit into a meatball, it was ice cold.
ptoo!
After that experience, I doubt I’ll ever be able
to eat leftovers again.
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And the bagged lunch thing isn’t working out,
either. This week Rodrick was in charge of making
lunches, and he wrote a note on my bag, just like
Mom does.
Dear Greg,
Make sure
to change
your diaper
after lunch.
Love,
Mommy
I didn’t even bother eating the sandwich, since
I’ve never seen Rodrick wash his hands even once.
toss
62
My chore for the week is laundry, and I can’t
wait until my shift is over. For the record, I
think it should be illegal for a boy to have to fold
his mother’s underwear.
Friday
One of the big changes with Mom going to school
is that now Dad’s in charge of helping me with my
homework. No offense to Dad, but Mom is WAY
better at homework help than he is. When Mom
helps me do my homework, she basically gives me all
the answers, and I’m in and out in ten minutes.
the capital of
russia rhymes
with “noscow”.
m- m- m-
boscow?
moscow!
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It’s a whole different story with Dad. He wants
to teach me HOW to do the work, and that’s a
lot more time-consuming. Plus, it’s been a long time
since Dad was in school, so I have to sit there
and wait while he reads my textbooks and gets
caught up.
hmmm…
But math is the worst. I guess the way they
teach math these days is totally different from
the way they taught it when Dad was a kid, so
he gets frustrated with the new rules and starts
trying to teach me the way he learned it.
no, no, no…you
need to add the
numbers in this
column and
carry the four.
what does
“carry”
mean?
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Dad also licks his finger and his thumb to make
it easier for him to turn the pages. And when he
does that, I try and keep track of which pages
he turns so I don’t touch his spit.
But with all those numbers in my head, it doesn’t
leave a lot of room for math facts.
28…29…
32…35…
37…
I can tell when I’ve done something wrong,
because Dad gets kind of frustrated with me
and breathes real heavy out of his nose. So I’ve
learned to put a dish towel on my arm whenever
we’re working on Algebra.
lick
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By the time it’s over, two hours have gone by and
it’s time for me to go to bed. All I can say is,
I hope Mom wraps up her classes pretty quick,
because I’m a person who really needs his TV time
at night.
Monday
This math thing is becoming a problem. We have
“standardized testing” coming up at my school,
and I heard that the teachers won’t get their
bonuses unless we get good scores. So there’s a
lot of pressure on us kids, which kind of stinks.
I remember back in kindergarten, math used to
be really FUN.
one chocolate chip
cookie plus another
chocolate chip
cookie is…
two! two
chocolate
chip cookies!!!
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Mrs. Mackelroy says that if we don’t do well on the
test, we’ll lose our budget and music class will turn
into detention, or something like that. But I don’t
think kids are really getting the message. A few
weeks ago we had a math quiz, and Mrs. Mackelroy
said it was “open notebook,” which meant we could
use our notes and textbooks to help us out.
Then she left the classroom to take care of
something, and the second she stepped out the
door, it was total chaos.
biff
tear
shake
shake
rip!
Practically everybody failed the quiz because people
were using their notebook paper and books as
ammunition.
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So, based on that episode, I don’t think Mrs.
Mackelroy had better make any big plans for how
she’s gonna spend her bonus.
October
Tuesday
Tonight Dad walked up to me while I was sitting
on the couch, and he seemed bent out of shape
about something. He wanted to know why I
didn’t bring out the recycling bin this morning like
he asked me to.
I told him he must be confused, because he never
said anything to me about the recycling. But he
said he asked me to do it last night while I was
playing video games, and to be honest with you,
that did seem a little familiar.
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If I DID forget, it wasn’t my fault. I actually
have a really GREAT system for remembering
things.
You know how some people leave notes for
themselves when they need to remember
something? Well, I think that’s a lot of work,
and it’s a waste of paper, too.
So let’s say I’m in bed and Mom walks into my
room and tells me I have to bring a permission slip
to school in the morning. I don’t get out of bed
and write a note.
69
I just throw one of my pillows across the room.
Then, when I wake up in the morning and go to
walk out the door, I see the pillow and think,
“Hey, what’s this pillow doing here?”
toss
70
Then I remember, “Oh yeah, I have to bring a
permission slip to school.” See what I mean? It’s
totally foolproof.
Now that I think of it, I DID leave myself
a reminder to take out the recycling. I
SPECIFICALLY remember putting my socks on
the TV before I went to bed, to remind myself
in the morning.
And if Dad did something to mess up my system,
he’s only got himself to blame.
But Dad wouldn’t let it go. He said now that
I’m getting older, I need to start being
more “responsible.”
71
I’ve heard this sort of thing from Dad before.
The last few weeks of the summer, our neighbor,
Ms. Grove, hired me to take care of her plants
while she was on a business trip. Well, I did it for
the first few days, and then I guess you could
say I got busy with other things.
When Dad asked me how the plants were doing,
I realized I hadn’t been over there in at least
a WEEK. I went to grab Ms. Grove’s key so I
could water her plants, but the key wasn’t in its
usual spot.
I practically turned our house upside down looking
for that key, but I couldn’t find it.
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It turns out the reason I couldn’t find the key
was because it wasn’t in our house. I’d left it at
Ms. Grove’s, and she found it when she got back
from her trip.
Ms. Grove was pretty mad that her key was
in the front door, but the way I see it, she
should’ve been happy nobody robbed her house.
She was mad about her plants, too, because
unfortunately most of them didn’t make it. I
suggested that maybe she should buy a cactus or
another plant that doesn’t need a lot of water
to survive.
73
That way, everything would be fine if I lost her
key the NEXT time she went on a business trip.
But Ms. Grove said she wouldn’t hire me again even
if her life depended on it. Then she sent me home
without paying, which stinks, because I really did
spend a lot of time looking for that key.
Anyway, I think that episode is still fresh in
Dad’s mind, and that’s why I’m hearing this
“responsibility” thing again.
Hopefully, Dad will leave my socks on the
television next time around and things won’t get
to this point.
74
Thursday
Well, Dad is really serious about me taking on more
responsibility. And the first thing he wants me to
do is start waking myself up in the morning.
That’s actually a real problem, because I depend
on HIM to wake me up.
hup hup hup.
let’s go,
let’s go!
zzzzz
clap
clap
clap
That’s the way we’ve been doing it for YEARS,
and I really don’t see any reason to change
things now.
Dad said that if I don’t learn to wake myself up
with an alarm clock, then I’m not gonna know
how to do it when I go off to college.
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But I always figured that would be the way me
and Dad would stay in touch.
zzz
hello?
hup hup hup.
let’s go,
let’s go!
Yesterday was the first day I tried to wake
myself up, and it didn’t work out so well. My alarm
went off and all, but the sound just worked its
way into my dream.
meep!
meep!
meep!
cut it
out!
meep!
meep!
meep!
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And today didn’t go any better. I set my alarm
to “radio” and tuned it to a classical music station
because I didn’t want to hear that annoying beep
first thing in the morning. But the music didn’t
wake me up, either.
The problem is, without an actual human being
waking me up, my brain is always gonna find some
excuse to keep sleeping. But I think I might’ve
figured out a solution to this alarm clock situation.
I found one of those old-style windup clocks in
the storage room today, and those clocks make a
huge racket when they go off.
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I tested it out to see if it still worked, and sure
enough, it did.
riiinnng
I don’t think ANYONE could sleep through a
noise like THAT. The only problem is that the
clock doesn’t have a “snooze” bar, so I’m worried
I’ll shut it off and fall back asleep.
So tonight I hid the clock under my bed. This
way, when the alarm goes off, I’ll have to get up
to find the clock, and then I’ll be up for the day.
Friday
It turns out the new alarm clock caused some
new problems.
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With that windup clock ticking under my bed, I
felt like I was sleeping on top of a bomb that
was about to go off. So the stress kept me awake
half the night.
tick tick
tick tick
I sleepwalked through my day at school, which
was fine until we had an assembly. We were lined
up to go into the auditorium, and I was leaning
against the wall.
But I must’ve fallen asleep for half a second,
because my hand slipped and I accidentally set off
the fire alarm.
79
The whole school had to evacuate, and three
minutes later there were a bunch of fire trucks
out front.
After they found out there was no fire, they let
everyone back into the school. The principal got
on the loudspeaker and said that whoever set off
the alarm was gonna be suspended and that they
should turn themselves in.
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I don’t know much, but what I DO know is
that you shouldn’t announce what the punishment
is gonna be BEFORE you ask people to turn
themselves in. So I decided it would be smart to
keep quiet and let this all blow over.
After third period, a rumor started going around
school that the fire alarm squirts out invisible
liquid when you pull the handle, and that the
teachers had some sort of special X-ray wand
they could use to see the liquid on somebody’s
hand. So it was only a matter of time before they
found the culprit.
Then everyone started wondering if it was the
TEACHERS who started the rumor and it was
just a trick to see which kid would go to the
bathroom first to wash his hand
s.
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So that got everyone really paranoid.
boys
Then nobody would go to the bathroom, and
everyone who actually needed to go decided to just
hold it until the end of the day.
tap
tap
tap
The principal eventually had to shut the school
down early because nobody was washing their hands
and we’re right in the middle of flu season.
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Mom was off at the library studying, so I had to
call Dad at work and ask him to come pick me up
from school early. And he didn’t seem too happy
about it.
But if he didn’t make me wake myself up, none of
this would’ve even happened.
Wednesday
They’re starting a new unit in our Health class
called “The Facts of Life,” and apparently it
covers all the stuff they’ve been dancing around
for the past couple of months. They sent
permission slips home, and if you don’t get yours
signed, you’re not allowed to even be in the
classroom for the rest of the semester.
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I really don’t like this permission slip thing. Mom
only lets me watch G-rated movies, so I know
there’s no way she’ll let me be in the class.
To get around that problem, I typed up a fake
note and taped it on top of the actual permission
slip.
I give my child permission
to do extra homework.
Signature of parent/guardian
Luckily, Mom didn’t look at the paper too closely,
and I got the signature I needed.
now that was
an easy decision!
84
I’m actually glad they’re doing this “Facts of
Life” unit, because I have a lot of questions about
this stuff, and I don’t have a reliable way of
getting answers.
Just about everything I know in this department
comes from Albert Sandy, and I’m starting to
wonder if he’s been feeding me bad information.
Like last week, he told everyone at the lunch table
that it’s medically impossible for a girl to fart.
