Dear Dumb Diary #3: Am I the Princess or the Frog?
Page 4
You know what this means? It means that if
Miss Bruntford looked like ME when she was a kid,
then I’m going to look like HERwhen I’m an adult!
84
“Does it look okay?” Angeline said, all
smuglike. “I hope you don’t mind that I did the
glitter myself. I’m going to drop it off with Miss
Anderson now, so she can put it up in the cafeteria
next week.”
And then Angeline paused for just a second,
with this strange kind of tiny smile that was as
small and bewildering as a baby’s butt.
I know that she noticed the resemblance in
Miss Bruntford’s photo and she wanted me to
crumble.
But I didn’t. I stayed strong and silent and
just nodded okay, thinking that this was even worse
than Isabella’s project, and wondering why I had
thought there was something bewildering about
baby butts.
85
Next week, both Isabella’s andAngeline’s
projects go up in the cafeteria, and everybody —
including Mr. Prince — will see them.
I very much doubt that even Rumplestiltskin
can save me now.
86
Saturday 21
Dear Dumb Diary,
When I woke up this morning, I knew this
might be my last chance to persuade Isabella to
change her project. I hoped that when I told her
about Baby Bruntford, she might take pity on me
and change her mind. I was also fully prepared to lie
and say her head was becoming less round. (When
in reality, if anything, it’s getting rounder.)
87
When I got to Isabella’s house, there on her
front lawn was the kitten I found last week, along
with another one. I scooped them up and rang the
doorbell. Isabella was holding a third, much
younger kitten in her arms when she opened the
door. When she saw me standing there with the
other two kittens, she looked just like she did after
we learned about you-know-what in biology.
88
“Oh, good,” she lied.
Isabella can lie to almost anybody but me. I
can always spot her deceptions, and she usually
doesn’t bother even trying. The fact that she was
even trying indicated that she was really and truly
desperate.
“My neighbors lost those two kittens that you
have there, as well as this third kitten, which I
found just before you got here. Let me have them
all and I’ll return them promptly to their rightful
owners, which is not me. And hurry up, because my
mom is here and I don’t want her to see them,
because (Isabella was really groping for an
explanation here) because . . . my . . . mom . . .
has . . . a . . . real . . . soft . . . spot . . .for . . .
baby . . . animals.”
Isabella’s mom is really nice and everything,
but a soft spot for baby animals? I’ve seen her
pound veal like it owed her money.
89
Sunday 22
Dear Dumb Diary,
I launched Operation Beagle Bounce
today and it failed. I blame coffee and dog
breeding.
The idea came to me last night, as I watched
Stinker gnaw/make-out with Grossnasty, his chew
toy.
I really thought this plan could not miss, and
here’s how it came together:
While my parents were asleep, I put a couple
of aspirin bottles and a Kleenex box on Mom’s
bedside table. I dumped all the coffee beans in the
trash and left the empty bag on the counter. Then I
changed Dad’s alarm clock.
90
I got dressed for school and picked up my
backpack and tiptoed into my parent’s room. Then
Ishook my dad and said, “Dad. Dad. Look at the
time! You’re late! You’re late!” I had to sound
really freaked out or it might occur to him that
today was Sunday and he didn’t have to go to
workat all.
The first thing he did was look at my mom,
who was still asleep. I pointed at the aspirin and
Kleenex. “Don’t wake Mom. I don’t think she feels
well.”
91
Dad jumped into his clothes and came
downstairs. I couldn’t have him hanging around to
maybe wake up Mom. I pointed at the coffeepot:
“Out of coffee: Dad, go go go!” Dad ran to his car
and hopped in, not noticing that I was right behind
him, carrying fat ol’ Stinker out to the driveway. He
also failed to notice that somebody had tied
Grossnasty to the back bumper of his car.
92
Dad already drives too fast, but when he
thinks he’s late for work, he shoots out of the
driveway like a rocket. I figured that when Stinker
saw Grossnasty taking off, he’d trot behind the car
for a while, fussing and wheezing until he eventually
got tired and lost. Then somebody would pick him
up and return him to us. I figured he’d be back by
the end of the week, and by that time, I would have
been allowed to submit a picture of a beautiful
fawn or swan or something to Isabella’s project,
because I did not have a pet anymore — my pet had
run away.
93
But here’s how dog breeding works, I guess.
Long ago, people who wanted to invent the beagle
looked around for the beagliest animals they could
find. And when those two beaglish dogs had
puppies, they married those puppies to other
super-beagly dogs, until finally, after they did this
a jillion times, they got the beagle as we know it
today.
94
I had never really thought about what
beagles had been bred for. I suppose I thought
they were bred to stink and be nuisances, like
maybe for homeowners who wanted something to
dig up their flower beds but were afraid the
neighbors would object to a skunk.
But it turns out, beagles were bred to chase things,
fast things, like foxes and — at this particular
moment — chew toys tethered to movingcars.
Stinker took off faster than I had ever seen
him move. I could barely hear Dad’s tires squealing
over the sound of Stinker’s toenails scraping on the
cement. Stinker caught up to Dad’s car quickly and
got a good chomp on Grossnasty.
95
And I learned that there’s another thing that
beagles were bred to do: Not Give Up. Stinker
was not going to let go of Grossnasty for anything,
not even to avoid being dragged behind a car.
Fortunately (for Stinker), Dad only went a
block or so before he had to stop.
For medicine? For gasoline? Nope.
96
For coffee. Adults’ bloodstreams are
practically full of it, and my dad is maybe the
worst. Since he didn’t get it at home, he was willing
to be late for work just for a cup of his precious
Starbucks. (“Need some latte in my b
atte,” he
always says.)
When Dad got out of the car, he noticed
Stinker still hanging on to Grossnasty and realized,
by looking at a newspaper box outside Starbucks,
that it was Sunday.
97
When Dad got home, he was pretty angry, but
I apologized as hard as I could for getting the
calendar mixed up, and he just grumped a little,
handed me Stinker (who was scruffier and dirtier
than ever), and went back to bed.
Like I said, the plan had failed, and it looked
like I wasn’t going to get rid of Stinker. But then, at
that time, I hadn’t considered The Mom
Factor.
Mom sprang her big surprise on us this
afternoon.
98
Remember last week when somebody called
and Mom got all excited? It was Miss Bruntford. She
had asked Mom for her meat loaf recipe so they
could use it to make the New Improved school
meatloaf.
All the teachers know about my Mom’s
cooking. Last year, the lemon squares my mom
brought for a bake sale caused a dozen kids to lose
their hearing for three days.
99
Mom says she made a little loaf (remember
that day when we smelled her cooking but she gave
us pizza?) and took it over to Miss Bruntford’s. Miss
B. tried it, and asked Mom to make a big batch to
try on the kids this week at school.
Mom says that Miss Bruntford knows the kids
hate the school meat loaf, and she thinks my mom
can solve the problem. Mom is so proud of herself
that Dad and I were careful not to say anything
discouraging. Though I did overhear Dad make a
secret call to our insurance agent to see if we were
covered if Mom food-poisoned an entire middle
school.
100
So Mom spent the entire day making her meat
loaves.
I was in the family room trying not to inhale
any more meat loaf odor than I had to when I saw
Stinker walk into the kitchen and then walk out. He
scratched at the door to go outside. I opened it and
he walked down the sidewalk and slowly down the
street.
I watched him walk all the way out of sight.
101
When I looked in the kitchen, I saw what
Stinker had seen. Not just a couple of meat loaves,
but countless steaming football -shaped meat
lumps stacked on every counter.
And I understood: Stinker had done the math.
He knows how much leftover meat loaf he is
expected to eat from one single meat loaf. The
leftovers he thought he was going to have to eat
from this batch were just too much to bear.
Mom said that one day I’d appreciate her
cooking, and she was right: Today I do.
Stinker has run away from home!
102
Monday23
Dear Dumb Diary,
That’s right! Stinker has run away from home,
and Isabella still won’t let me off the hook. She
says the law states that unless the dog is gone
forever, or has been given away, or the dog or turtle
has been replaced with a different kitten, then it’s
still my dog, and that’s what is going in the project.
I asked her if she meant “puppy” instead of
“kitten,” and she got all panicky again and said it
could be a puppy or a kitten and, besides, those
weren’t her kittens.
Then she added that I wouldn’t need to give
her my photos. She already had pictures of me and
Stinker that were going to work just fine for her art
project.
I wondered if today would be a good day to
have a long talk with Mr. Prince, maybe sort out
some of these feelings we have for each other, and
see if he could get Isabella suspended.
I thought I’d hint at it a little by sculpting
Isabella’s head in mashed potatoes with a fork
stuck in one eye.
104
He didn’t notice, though. He wasn’t standing
by the garbage can today. Mr. Prince was off in a
corner talking with Miss Anderson. Probably asking
about me. He cares so much.
I think Hudson may have said hi to me today,
but I didn’t really notice, being so deeply immersed
in the romantic fairy tale that is my life, although I
still really can’t tell if I’m the Princess or the frog.
(This fairy- tale report for Evans is going to be
tough.)
Also I was pretty hungry and wished that I
had eaten Isabella’s head instead of throwing it
out.
Wait a second. Why did Isabella bring up
those kittens again?
105
Tuesday 24
Dear Dumb Diary,
That was the very first thing I asked Isabella
today. I also asked her if the neighbors got their
kittens back and if the kittens were happy now and
kittens kittens KITTENS.
And it was more than Isabella could take. She
knows she can’t lie to me. It was time for her to give
up trying.
106
She said it had come to her in a flash in art
class that nobody had an uglier pet than I do.
Except her. Isabella has a turtle.
107
So she used her powers of persuasion on her
dad to make him take her to the mall to get a
kitten, which is one of the all-time cutest animals
in the world.
But Isabella says that in as little as a week
kitten cuteness starts to fade. And she wanted her
pet to be the cutest one in the project so that
everybody would say that Isabella was the cutest
girl in our grade.
So she told her dad that the kitten had run
away, and she cried and cried until he took her to
get a new one. (As you might recall, Dumb Diary,
Isabella’s fake crying is unrivaled.)
The replacement kitten also started to lose
its cuteness after a week, so she replaced it the
same way. She’s keeping the extras hidden in her
room until the assignment is over.
108
So I had her, right? In my best TV lawyer
voice, I pointed out that the TURTLE is the real
pet and that’s what has to be in the photo.
Then she got all sinister again and smiled this
real horrible smile. “Nope,” she said. “Last night,
kittens one and two ate the turtle. A shame, really,
but it all works out fine in the end.”
109
“But it doesn’t work out fine for me. Not for
ME!” I said.
And she countered with — get this —“What do
you care, with your three boyfriends?”
“Three boyfriends?” I said. “WHAT
three boyfriends?”
She never answered. She just said that she
had even worse pictures of me and Stinker, and if I
knew what was good for me, I’d just be quiet about
the kittens until the assignment was over.
Isabella has older brothers and is therefore
&n
bsp; an expert in blackmail.
110
Wednesday 25
Dear Dumb Diary,
We turned in our art projects today. Isabella
was glaring at me and flashed the more awful
pictures of me and Stinker, just to keep me in line.
111
112
Angeline kept looking at me like she expected
me to say something to her, but what did I have to
say? I’m either Miss Bruntford or The Beagle. I was
done talking.
And at lunch today, Pinsetti was jabbering so
loud at me, I couldn’t hear what Mr. Prince and Miss
Anderson were saying, but they were giggling, so I
suppose it was about something funny I had said.
114
The only good thing, I guess, is that Hudson
and Angeline were sitting together. I’m grateful
that she’s taken him off my hands—although as I
write this, I can hardly believe I said that. As a
matter of fact, I take it back . . .
But I guess that just shows how committed I
am to making Mr. Prince wait painfully for me until I
am an adult.
115
Thursday 26
Dear Dumb Diary,
Miss Bruntford and Mom’s meat loaf
are back!
We all knew this day would come. But what I
didn’t expect was my mom to show up as well. When
your mom shows up at school unexpectedly, you
figure that either your house burned down or she
read your diary.
But my mom was just excited to see the kids