by Jim Benton
wasn’t it kind of dumb to send me to your house?”
“Not if it had worked,” I said. If my hair
hadn’t been different, Isabella would have the
puppy, and we would know that she had outsmarted
us, which would have made her even happier. Even
wayway happier. Perfect crime does that for
Isabella.
72
Angeline said that I should skip the
homework and just go home to spend the rest of
the day brushing. My hair is yummy, but it is a lot
of work.
I thought about calling Isabella to accuse her
of an attempted pupnapping, but she’d just deny it
and then put her fake dad on the phone to say she
had been home the whole time.
No, sometimes it’s best to just let her crimes
go uncaught.
73
Monday 16
Dear Dumb Diary,
It would be hard not to deeply love my hair
when you see it. It shines and billows like satin
curtains and flows behind me like a big beautiful
flag from some exotic country whose entire culture
is based on brown hair.
It would be very difficult to trust anybody
that didn’t love it as deeply as is normal to do.
Hudson Rivers noticed it, and it’s obvious
that he is completely mesmerized by it.
Margaret noticed it, and was so taken that
she briefly stopped eating her pencil to eat out her
own heart with envy. (You might recall, Dumb D,
that Margaret is such a big-time pencil chewer that
her burps smell like a lumberyard.)
Isabella noticed it, and said, “Angeline did
this, right? Like, Friday, I’m guessing? It’s stunning.
Where’s my puppy?”
74
Sorry, I had to stop writing for a minute to
spray and brush. This hair of mine is very high-tech.
I told Isabella that the puppy is growing
as fast as it can, and that we even stacked some
books on Angeline’s dog to make the milk come
out faster.
We didn’t, of course, and I’m not even sure
that would work, but by that time Isabella was
running her fingers though my hair in such a way
that I knew she could jerk it all out of my scalp in
one tug if she felt like it.
75
Isabella thought for a moment.
“Like squeezing a juice box,” she said.
“Good idea.”
And that was that. Isabella seemed satisfied
that we are force- milking Angeline’s dog. She didn’t
even seem terribly jealous of my hair, which was a
little mean of her, but I know that deep down she
probably hates me for it, and that’s gratifying.
76
While Isabella and I were talking, I noticed
Hudson Rivers watching. I can only imagine how
wrong he must feel for ever thinking Angeline had
nicer hair than me. I’m thinking about maybe giving
him a wad of it from my brush.
77
Tuesday 17
Dear Dumb Diary,
I haven’t been doing my fake diary entries!
Dumb Diary, how could you let me forget?? I’m
going to slam you a bunch of times really hard for a
punishment.
Today in Mr. Evans’s class he reminded us that
we only have three days to complete our fake diary
entries. Some people had already turned theirs
in early. And he brought up the magazine quizzes
again and said that I had suggested such a great
idea, that maybe our next assignment could be to
write a quiz. This would make me the mother
of an assignment, which is sickening beyond
description, and one of the worst things you
can be.
I heard about this one girl who was just
walking down the street and accidentally blurted
out, “Write an essay.” Now she’s the mother of that
assignment and she has to live with the pain and
the guilt forever.
Between that and other homework, I was
afraid my hair’s shimmer was suffering. At lunch,
78
I asked Hudson if he thought it looked any less
shimmery and he said, “What?” I think that
probably meant “no,” but to be sure I asked about a
dozen other people.
79
Isabella says that I’m fussing over it too
much, which made me and my hair feel good
because that means she’s finally getting in touch
with her jealousness of us.
Isabella also had some of her magazine
quizzes today and she asked me super- politely if
I’d like to do one, but it was in that kind of super-
polite way that super- villains talk to superheroes
they have chained to a table while they’re preparing
to blow up the world.
I told her I’d pass, and then she said, OH BY
THE WAY, as a comparison, she’d stuck a juice-
box straw through a little hole she made in a gallon
of milk and stacked a bunch of books on it and it
was pretty much empty in about an hour, and isn’t
Angeline’s dog just about squeezed flat by now?
80
It’s very diffi cult to argue with a good
scientist. It’s even harder to argue with a
good scientist who is eyeing your silky mane in
a scary way. I told Isabella that she could come
and pick out one of the puppies, rename it, and
cuddle on it a little bit, but it still wasn’t time to
take it home. That seemed to be enough to calm
her down. Also, she is very curious to see how flat
Angeline’s dog is.
Yikes. It’s been a while since I did one of my
fake entries. I hope I remember how it goes:
81
My Dearest Diary:
If there’s one thing that my beautifulness teaches
us, it is that other people, all over the world, no matter who
they are or where they’re from, have one important thing in
common. They are just not as beautiful.
Sincerely,
Anonymous but now that you know I’m beautiful, it’s
probably not too tough to figure out who I am
82
I have to remember to talk to Angeline about
Isabella coming over to pick out a puppy. Obviously,
she’ll pick out the cutest one and name it Deathbite
or Sugarwhatever. Isabella is easy to predict,
especially by somebody with magazine-verified
smarts.
83
Wednesday 18
Dear Dumb Diary,
Lunchtime today was a series of
conversations in which Isabella just kept trying to
change the subject:
Me: So have you noticed how beautiful my
hair and I look today?
Isabella:Yeah. You know what else is
beautiful? Puppies.
Me : Right. Doesn’t their hair look nice when
you brush it?
Isabella: It does. You sure are smart.
I guess you could answer every question in any
magazine quiz anywhere.
Me: I have a sore on my lip.
Isabella: Puppies have sores.
84
Incredibly, I was actually GLAD when
Angeline sat down at our table. I wonder if I’m
beginning to hate Angeline less. I think my hair
hates her hair less. I think my everything-elses still
hate her everything- elses. I’m sure her everything-
elses feel the same about me and mine.
Angeline asked how our diary things for
Evans were going. Isabella said she hates it, like all
homework, and it sure would be nice to have a dog
to eat her homework once in a while.
I was so desperate to change the subject I
actually got into a conversation about homework.
“It’s doubly hard for me since I already keep
a real diary, and now I have to keep this fake one,”
I said. Angeline said she was doing exactly the
same thing.
85
I remembered one time before, when Angeline
had told me she kept a diary. I know what you’re
thinking, Dumb Diary. You’re thinking I have a
spectacular memory. And you’re right.
But I was surprised to hear that Angeline is
smart enough to do exactly what I’m doing. She
must have heard me or another genius talking
about it and imitated it the way a blond baboon or
blond orangutan would.
86
Thursday 19
Dear Dumb Diary,
After school, Isabella and I went over to
Angeline’s house to get her puppy. Isabella was
so happy she did that thing where somebody just
grabs your hands and shakes shakes shakes them.
I think the gesture is universally known as HAPPY
INSANE HANDS.
87
I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Isabella so happy.
One time a few years ago, this mean old man who
lives on our street was yelling at us to get off his
lawn. When he turned to go back in the house, he
closed the door on his finger and broke it in about
a hundred places because old people break easy.
Isabella was pretty happy then. She can still sing
the song she wrote about it. And I’ll bet she still has
that T-shirt she made.
But she was even happier about the puppy.
88
Angeline’s dog, Stickybuns, was less nervous
now, and the puppies were even more adorable than
before. They climbed all over us and licked at us. I
tried to remember when Stinker was cute like this
and not just mushy and smelly like a dog- shaped
peach that has been out on the counter too long.
I wayway wish I had a cute dog.
89
Isabella played with all of the puppies, kind
of making them audition for the role of Her Dog.
Stinkette was in there, really truly trying her ugly
best, but it was pretty clear to everybody that The
Bubblegum Duchess, Prince Fuzzybutt,
and Dingledongle were truthfully some of the
cutest puppies that were ever born. They were
cute enough even to be on a poster with a bowl of
spaghetti dumped on their heads, and that type
of cute just doesn’t come along every day.
Finally, Isabella said she had made her
choice. Angeline stood up and stepped on a
puppy’s head.
90
Or she
thought
she had. Just like I thought
I had. And as Angeline jumped back, she went
over — all the way over and hit the ground, hard.
She started crying and howling, and her mom came
in and said she was afraid that Angeline had broken
her ankle.
Isabella and I had to leave without her puppy,
which I thought was going to be a huge problem, but
Isabella hardly threatened either one of us. I guess
she may have felt a little sorry for Angeline, and is
kind of okay with waiting a couple more days.
91
Friday 20
Dear Dumb Diary,
I got called down to the office today. My Aunt
Carol works there, you know, with my Uncle Dan,
who is the assistant principal, and who, you might
recall, happens to be Angeline’s uncle.
Aunt Carol said Angeline’s mom brought in
Angeline’s diary assignment because she knows
it’s due today, and Angeline still can’t walk on her
messed- up ankle. Angeline wasn’t sure if it went to
Mr. Evans or to Mrs. Penney, so she asked her mom
to make sure I got it.
92
I’m a little worried, because Angeline had to
go and make her diary wayway thicker than mine.
It’s almost as thick as my real diary. I wondered if
I could go back and add some junk to mine before I
turned it in, but there wasn’t time.
93
I gave my diary to Mr. Evans, along with
Angeline’s. He scribbled over the names and handed
them right back to me.
“Take all the diaries down to Mrs. Penney and
she’ll tell you what to do,” he said in a way that
was less ugly-faced and mean-voiced than
usual.
Down in the library, Old Mrs. Penney looked
over the diaries.
94
“Good. Mr. Evans took the names off.” She
handed me about a quarter of them. “You type
these up, and I’ll do the rest,” she oldly said, and
then added, “I already typed up the ones that
were handed in early. And I have some from other
classes.”
She handed me a stack and put one of the
typed ones on top. “Have a look at that one, Jamie.
I think you’ll find it very interesting.” She giggled a
little, although I think when old people giggle it’s
called cackling.
95
Saturday 21
Dear Dumb Diary,
My hair and I had such wonderful dreams.
We were skipping along in a perfect meadow,
and my hair was sort of like this beautiful hair-
octopus, and I would extend a hair- tentacle to
gently pet bunnies or puppies or koalas and they
would kiss my hair and smile. Also my hair strangled
a few of the uglier creatures nobody likes, which
might have been kind of mean, but you really must
trust the judgment of hair this attractive.
Then my hair reminded me that I had to type
up a bunch of diaries, and I woke up.
96
After about a solid hour of brushing, I began
to examine the diaries.
I knew it would be easy to figure out which
was which. My brilliant mind could easily unravel
the writers’ identities, even though only a few were
of any interest to me. I found Isabella’s right away
because I recognized her handwriting. She already
tells me everything, so there was no reason to read
that one.
Angeline had already told us hers was totally
fake, so there was no point in reading that either.
I mean, what’s it going to say?
Dear Diary, I’m
perfect, everybody loves me, but I hate everybody
because nobody is as great as me?
Please.
97
The only d
iary I really wanted to read was
Hudson Rivers’s. I quickly flipped through them all,
looking for key words. If I saw words like “leotard”
or “moisturizer” or “cleanliness,” I knew that it
wasn’t his. These words are unknown to boys’
minds until they are afflicted with older age.
98
On the other hand, words like “video game”
or “video games” or “video gamer” are words that
often appear in boys’ mouths, and are likely to
appear in their writing as well.
And then it occurred to me! Old Mrs. Penney
told me that one diary in particular would
be interesting to me. And she knows all the kids!
She knows all about Hudson and me! I quickly
found the diary she pointed out. Here’s what it
said:
HEY DIARY:
I SAW HER AT SCHOOL TODAY AND I THINK
HER HAIR LOOKS REAL GOOD. I THINK SHE
IS REAL GOOD AND I LIKE HER. THAT IS ALL
I HAVE TO SAY TODAY DIARY SO BYE.
At first, I thought that entry could be about
Angeline. Some people might think that she has
nice hair. But then I read the rest. Here are a few
more entries that I think tell the whole story.
99
HEY AGAIN DIARY:
I THOUGHT ABOUT IT AND NOW I DON’T
THINK SHE IS GOOD BECAUSE SHE’S ALWAYS
SO CONCERNED ABOUT HER HAIR AND
THAT’S PRETTY CONCEITED. OKAY BYE.
HEY DIARY. IT’S ME AGAIN.
NOW THAT I THINK ABOUT IT, I THINK IT’S
GROSS AND CRAZY TO BE OBSESSED WITH
YOUR LOOKS SO MUCH THAT YOU LET IT
CONTROL EVERYTHING YOU DO. I FARTED IN
MATH. BYE.
HEY DIARY. I’M WRITING AGAIN.
IT IS A REAL SHAME THAT SOMEBODY SO
COOL AND FUNNY REALLY THINKS THAT ALL
ANYBODY CARES ABOUT IS LOOKS. PEOPLE
CAN’T HELP BUT NOTICE HOW PEOPLE LOOK,
BUT THAT’S ONLY A SMALL PART OF WHAT
MAKES A PERSON WHO THEY ARE. BYE.
