Dedication
For Skip Flanagan—
always in shape—H. P.
For Jim and Marybeth—L. A.
Dedication
Chapter 1: Heads Up!
Chapter 2: Water Boy Girl
Chapter 3: Little Pitchers Have Red Ears
Chapter 4: Hole in None
Chapter 5: Downward-Facing Finally
Chapter 6: Get the Cents Back
Chapter 7: Marathon, Pentathlon, and On and On . . .
Chapter 8: On Your Mark, Get Set . . . STOP!
Chapter 9: The Hundred-Meter Dash
Chapter 10: Throw like a Girl, Shake like a Boy
Chapter 11: Greece-y Pan Quakes
Chapter 12: High Pentas All Around
Chapter 13: A Lonnnnnggg Jump to a Short End
Chapter 14: When Second Comes First
Excerpt from Amelia Bedelia Cleans Up
Two Ways to Say It
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About the Author and Illustrator
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
Amelia Bedelia did not wake up and say to herself, Gee, what a beautiful day. I can’t wait to look silly in front of all my friends.
Amelia Bedelia would never wish that on anyone, much less herself. But that is exactly what happened. Doubly worse, it happened twice!
After doing fractions all morning, Amelia Bedelia and her friends were ready for recess. When Mrs. Robbins let them out early, they raced to the playground.
“Last one to the water fountain has to add up ten fractions, except Amelia Bedelia!” yelled Rose.
Rose was making an exception for Amelia Bedelia because Amelia Bedelia was the reason they had gotten out early for recess. She had given their math teacher, Mrs. Robbins, a headache. Here’s why:
“Amelia Bedelia,” said Mrs. Robbins at the beginning of math class, “what if I gave you a pie—”
“Thank you,” said Amelia Bedelia. “I love pie.”
“I’m not really giving you a pie,” said Mrs. Robbins. “Just pretend.”
“Okay,” said Amelia Bedelia.
Mrs. Robbins continued, “Now suppose eight people want a piece.”
“No problem,” said Amelia Bedelia. “I’d cut it into eight equal pieces.”
“That’s correct,” said Mrs. Robbins. “But what if you had served half the pie, and then four more people showed up?”
“I’d bake them cupcakes,” said Amelia Bedelia. “Pretend cupcakes.”
“Pretend you can’t bake,” said Mrs. Robbins. “Stick with the pie. What fraction would the others get?”
“I’ve never tasted fraction pie,” said Amelia Bedelia. “Is it good?”
“A fraction isn’t a flavor,” said Mrs. Robbins. “It is a piece of the whole.”
“But holes are empty,” said Amelia Bedelia. “Am I serving pieces of nothing?”
“I mean the whole pie,” said Mrs. Robbins. “I’ll give you a hint. Half of the pie is gone, right? So you’d cut the other half into eight pieces—eight sixteenths, which is equal to four eighths, or two quarters.”
“Then that’s easy,” said Amelia Bedelia. “If half a pie is just two quarters, I’d spend fifty cents and buy another half a pie for the new people.”
“Pretend you don’t have any cents,” said Mrs. Robbins.
“I don’t have to pretend that,” said Amelia Bedelia. “Sharing one puny pie with twelve people makes no sense at all.”
The other kids had been trying not to laugh all along, but now they laughed out loud. Mrs. Robbins was not laughing. She was rubbing her forehead.
“Pretend you know everything there is to know about fractions,” Mrs. Robbins said with a sigh. “We’ll try this again tomorrow. I think we all deserve an early recess.”
This was too good to be true. No one moved a muscle until Mrs. Robbins added, “I’m not pretending!”
Amelia Bedelia and her friends took turns drinking from the water fountain. Then Rose and Dawn picked teams for a game of kickball. One after another, girls joined Rose or Dawn on the field until only Amelia Bedelia was left.
It was Dawn’s turn, and Amelia Bedelia began jogging toward her.
“I choose the water fountain,” said Dawn.
Amelia Bedelia stopped in her tracks. The other girls burst out laughing.
“That’s mean,” said Rose. “You have to pick Amelia Bedelia.”
“Why?” asked Dawn. “She makes mistakes. Last time, we lost because of her. At least a water fountain won’t goof up.”
“I’ll tell you why,” said Rose. “If the water fountain is on your team, then my team can’t get a drink without your permission. The water fountain is for everybody. That’s why Amelia Bedelia is for you.”
Amelia Bedelia’s cheeks were getting redder and redder. She had never felt so embarrassed in her entire life. How could she come in second place to a rusty, leaky water fountain? Weren’t they all friends? Had Dawn forgotten that she had feelings?
Dawn just shook her head. Then she motioned for Amelia Bedelia to come over and join her. Amelia Bedelia felt like running the other way, running all the way home. Instead she nodded, put a smile on her face, and jogged over to join Dawn’s team.
Dawn put Amelia Bedelia in the outfield—the way, way out outfield. Amelia Bedelia stood there by herself for the entire game. But right before recess ended, Holly kicked the ball with all her might. It soared up, up, up in a high arc until it was a tiny dot, like a period at the end of a sentence. Then it began falling down, down, down toward Amelia Bedelia.
“Catch it!” hollered Dawn from the pitcher’s mound. “Catch it and we win!”
Amelia Bedelia put her arms up and ran toward where she thought the ball would land. The sun was right in her eyes. She had to remind herself that it was just a red bouncy ball she was hoping to catch, and not a fiery asteroid screaming toward earth. She could do it. She could catch it! But it hurt to look into the sun and try to see the ball. Her eyes were watering. Amelia Bedelia blinked, glancing at the ground for just a second. She glimpsed Holly rounding second base on her way home with the winning run. . . .
BO-INNNNG! The ball hit the top of Amelia Bedelia’s head so hard it knocked her on her butt. The ball bounced back up in the air. Penny made a diving catch, right before the ball hit the ground. Holly was out. Game over. They’d won!
Everyone ran to Amelia Bedelia to make sure she was all right. Dawn helped her up while Penny brushed the dirt and grass off her back.
“Awesome teamwork!” said Dawn. “Amelia Bedelia, you can be on my side any day.”
When Amelia Bedelia got home from school, Dawn’s remark about the water fountain was still bothering her. How dare Dawn pick a crummy water fountain for her team before picking her? Dawn was her friend! It reminded Amelia Bedelia of the time she had skinned both her knees at the beach and then went swimming. The salt water had really stung! Only now her feelings were hurting, not her knees.
After Amelia Bedelia set the table for dinner, she went outside and sat on the front steps. Her dog, Finally, sat down next to her and put her paw on her knee. Amelia Bedelia scratched Finally’s furry ears. They waited for her father to come home from work. He always had some joke or said something wacky. Her dad could always cheer her up.
She did not have to wait long. As he was turning off the sidewalk and onto their front walk, he bellowed loud enough for the neighbors to hear, “Hello, Amelia Bedelia! How’s my favorite daughter?”
“I’m your only daughter,” she said.
“Shhhh!” said her father as they sat down together on the steps. He leaned close, and in a fake whisper he said, “Don’t tell your twelve sisters. They ge
t so jealous.”
The thought of having twelve sisters was so preposterous that it made Amelia Bedelia smile.
“So, how was school?” asked her father.
“School was fine,” said Amelia Bedelia. “Recess was terrible.”
“Be glad you still have recess,” he said. “I wish I did. I’m glad it’s Friday.”
“How’s work?” asked Amelia Bedelia.
“Another day, another dollar,” he said.
“You need a raise, Dad,” said Amelia Bedelia.
“I’m just bringing home the bacon,” he said. “Keeping the wolf from our door.”
“Save the bacon for tomorrow,” said Amelia Bedelia. “We’re having chicken tonight.”
Her father’s stomach growled loudly.
“Yipes,” said Amelia Bedelia. “Sounds like you brought home a wolf with the bacon.”
“Wolves love bacon,” he said, patting his stomach. “I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and—”
“I’ll blow your house down!” shouted Amelia Bedelia.
BANG went their front door as it swung open and hit the side of the house. Amelia Bedelia and her father jumped up.
“Hey, you two!” said Amelia Bedelia’s mother from the doorway. “I’m struggling to fix dinner, and here are my best helpers, sitting around having recess.”
“I wish,” said Amelia Bedelia’s father.
“I don’t,” said Amelia Bedelia.
“Dad, could you carve the chicken for us?” asked Amelia Bedelia’s mother. “And Amelia Bedelia, please fill the glasses with water.”
“Maybe you should install a water fountain,” said Amelia Bedelia.
“Don’t be silly,” said her mother. “Who needs a water fountain when I’ve got you?”
Amelia Bedelia’s heart sank, but she did what she was told.
During dinner, Amelia Bedelia told her parents what had happened at recess. She tried to laugh about it, but her parents weren’t laughing. They were glancing at each other, the way parents do when they want to talk without kids around.
Amelia Bedelia finished her story by saying, “So I don’t feel like filling up water glasses right now, like a water fountain.”
“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” said her mother. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
“I know,” said Amelia Bedelia as she got up from the table. “I’m going to bed. This day has been way too long.” She cleared her place and headed to her room.
Amelia Bedelia tried her best to go to sleep, but it was way too early for that. Plus, she kept hearing her mother and father saying her name, again and again. Was something wrong? Was she in trouble? Why were they talking about her?
Amelia Bedelia slipped out of bed and tiptoed down the hall to the top of the stairs. She poked her face between the spindles on the stairway. Now she could hear everything her parents were saying.
“Amelia Bedelia seems fine to me,” said her mother. “But maybe she’s having coordination problems.”
What kind of problems? Amelia Bedelia looked down at her pajamas. The bottoms matched the top perfectly. All her outfits were coordinated. She loved matching colors and patterns and—
“She could get stronger,” said her father. “You know, get in shape.”
Amelia Bedelia looked at herself again. This was her shape, the only shape she had. She wasn’t a jellyfish or an octopus or a cat. She was a girl.
“Maybe she’s just not that interested in sports,” said her mother.
Amelia Bedelia almost shouted “Bingo!” She liked sports, but she wasn’t crazy about them. Why should she be? In her last try at sports, she had come in second to a crummy water fountain. And now her own parents thought she should get coordinated into a new shape.
“One thing is certain,” said her mother. “The corners of her mouth are droopy. That means that our cupcake is unhappy.”
“Unhappy!” exclaimed her father.
“Shhh!” said her mother. “She’ll hear you. Little pitchers have big ears.”
Amelia Bedelia was puzzled. Had she heard that right? Did her mom want Amelia Bedelia to be a pitcher and play baseball? Or was she saying that Amelia Bedelia had big ears?
“She has lots of friends,” said her father in a quieter voice. “All the kids love her.”
“True,” said her mother. “But if you were always the last one picked for a team, you might not love yourself.”
Her parents were talking softly now, so Amelia Bedelia had to strain to hear them. She pressed her face between the spindles as far as she could and tilted her ear toward the kitchen. She caught words like “self-confidence” and “sports camp.”
Then she heard a pop. Pop . . . pop-pop! POP-POP-POP! Her mom was making popcorn for just the two of them.
The wonderful aroma of freshly popped popcorn wafted upstairs. What torture! Inhaling deeply, Amelia Bedelia pushed her face against the spindles until . . . POP! Her entire head went through!
Amelia Bedelia yanked her head back. YEOW! Her ears were caught. Her mom was right again. Her ears were too big for her own good.
She could hear her parents clearly now, but she couldn’t pay attention. She was too busy twisting and turning her head and trying to pull it out from between the spindles. No luck. She heard her name and something about golf.
Then Amelia Bedelia heard her father say, “I’ve got an early tee time. Let’s hit the sack.”
Before Amelia Bedelia could wonder why her father was going to a tea party and punching a bag, her parents began turning off lights. Yipes, she thought. They’re coming upstairs!
Her parents would see her head protruding from the stairway like that stuffed deer head decorating the family room in her friend Roger’s house.
Amelia Bedelia was so desperate that she did a really gross thing. She spit on her fingers and then rubbed the spit behind her ears to make them slick. Then she steadily pulled her head back until . . . POP! Freedom!
As the lights went out in the kitchen, Amelia Bedelia scrambled down the hall and jumped back into bed. She dove under the covers and shut her eyes.
Seconds later her parents tiptoed into her room and stood right next to her bed. Her dad leaned down to kiss her good-night and his hand brushed her ear. Then he felt her other ear.
“Hey, honey,” he whispered, “Amelia Bedelia’s ears feel hot.”
“Hmmmm,” said her mother as she pushed the hair off Amelia Bedelia’s forehead, then gently touched her ears. “No fever, but we were talking about her, so now her ears are burning.”
Amelia Bedelia didn’t say a word. After her parents left quietly, she and her fiery ears kept pretending to be asleep until at last she was.
Amelia Bedelia hoped she was having a nightmare. If this were a nightmare, she knew she could open her eyes and it would be over. But no, it was much worse. This was reality. Her father was waking her up way too early on a Saturday morning.
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead!” said Amelia Bedelia’s father. “We’ve got a date with a golf course!”
Amelia Bedelia rubbed her eyes. Both her parents were in her room.
“We’re going to play golf,” said her father. “Actually, you’ll get to watch me play golf, you lucky girl.”
“I’d rather watch paint drying,” said Amelia Bedelia.
“Don’t be cranky, sweetie,” said her mother. “You’ll get outside, walk around, get some exercise. . . .”
“Hurry and get dressed,” said her dad. “Tee time is eight o’clock.”
On the way to the golf course, Amelia Bedelia’s father told her all about the history of golf. The game began in Scotland, so Amelia Bedelia figured that was why they’d have tea first.
They parked their car at the course and picked out a snazzy golf cart.
“Climb in,” said her father.
“Dad,” said Amelia Bedelia. “Aren’t we supposed to walk . . . you know, exercise?”
Her father looked around, then whispered, “Don’t tell Mom and I’ll
let you drive.”
“Deal,” said Amelia Bedelia, jumping in beside him.
They drove to a small hill, stopped the cart, and got out.
“I’m thirsty,” said Amelia Bedelia. “Is it tea time yet?”
“There’s a bag of tees right there,” said her father. “Help yourself, and hand me one.”
Amelia picked up the bag. She didn’t see any tea, just pointy little pieces of colored wood. She handed a red one to her dad. He stuck it in the ground and balanced his golf ball on top of it.
“Golf lesson number one,” said her father. “You have to address the ball.”
“Address the ball?” said Amelia Bedelia. “Are we mailing it somewhere?”
“No, silly,” said her father. “Just stand like this, then you can address it properly. . . .”
Amelia Bedelia stood just like her dad. Then she bent down to the ball. Using her most polite, grown-up voice, she said, “Hello, Mister Ball. Are you ready to play a little golf today?”
Next, Amelia Bedelia’s father demonstrated how to swing the club he called his driver. Amelia Bedelia thought this was weird. Wasn’t she his driver? Then he hit the ball for real—WHACK—and sent it flying into the air, far, far away.
Amelia Bedelia Shapes Up Page 1
