Attack of the Mutant Underwear (6 page)

Thursday, November 16

Turns out we can't sell poinsettias and Hanukkah candles, after all. Ms. B found out it's against school district policy. So we're going to sell chocolate bars instead. Which is okay with me. Chocolate bars are a product I really believe in!

Monday, November 20

Amy's been spending lots of time watching the Hamster Channel lately. Seems like whenever I look up, she's finished the assignment we're on and is over there by Ralphster's TV home.

Ms. B lets her take him out and play with him sometimes. This afternoon Amy let him crawl up her sleeve. I guess it tickled, because she started to giggle. Ms. B giggled, too, but made Amy put Ralphster back.

Tuesday, November 21

At lunch today I walked past the table where Libby and Amy and a bunch of girls were sitting. I overheard one girl ask the others, “If you
had
to go out with a boy, who would you go out with?” I slowed down and listened for answers, but they all started laughing and talking at once, and I couldn't pick out what any one person said. Like Amy.

Not that I care. I was just curious.

Ms. B drew Libby's name out of a hat, so she gets to take Ralphster home for Thanks-giving. Amy looked disappointed, but then Libby told her she could come visit anytime she wanted. Amy smiled from ear to ear.

Thursday, November 23
Thanksgiving Day

Had turkey for dinner, of course. Dad asked me to carve it. “Nice job, Cody!” he kept saying, even though my slices weren't as neat as his.

For dessert we had pumpkin
and
pecan pie, which Mom got at the Benton Bakery. She could have gotten them cheaper at Wal-Mart, but said, “I buy local!” For a sequel to dessert we had some of my fund-raiser chocolate bars. Mom and Dad paid for them. Ace-brilliant-type-fund-raiser-guy-Me was thankful.

Friday, November 24

MC says it's never okay to kiss a boy. “They always slobber all over you.” I asked her how she knew about kissing. She said, “Ken and Barbie kiss all the time! Do you and Amy?”

I said, “I'll tell you if you clean out the litter box.”

She said, “I don't want to know that bad!”

Tuesday, November 28

Today at recess a kid named Andrew kept hassling a girl named Amanda. He called her “nugget head,” and took the soccer ball away from her, and bumped into her—the same kind of Old Me stuff I used to do in fourth grade to Tiffany in Portland.

Libby says it's a stupid way to show somebody you care. Amy says it's immature. I agree.

Saturday, December 2

MC said I should call this journal
Girls Don't Get Cooties.

I said, “Mind your own business. I don't need your help to figure out a title.” (Even though I haven't yet.)

She covered her ears and said, “I can't hear you!”

I said, “Besides, girls do get cooties. There's one on you right now!”

Ha! You should have seen her run to check in the mirror. Serves her right since I have to do Emma's litter box until Christmas.

Monday, December 4

Today Ms. B said, “We aren't going to have regular math.”

Somebody said what I was thinking: “Yippee!”

Ms. B smiled. “We're going to do surveys instead.”

We all just kind of sat there until Zach said, “Surveys? You mean like when you ask people questions?”

Ms. B said, “No, not
like
when you ask people questions. We actually are going to
do
the real thing!”

Zach rolled his eyes. He hates it when Ms. B gets on him for saying “like.”

But here's the deal: all we have to do is pick a topic and come up with some questions, then go around asking them and write down what people say. Simple!

Maybe. Ms. B says we have to “present the survey findings mathematically,” which I think means in a graph or something.

Anyway, I'll worry about that part later. Right now I'm going to make a list of things I'd like to ask people. Because I always did like to, like, you know, ask lots of, like, questions. Like, How many times a day do you, like, say “like”? (Like, I'm not really, like, going to, like, ask that, though.)

Tuesday, December 5

I got a bunch of survey ideas, and I'm going to do them all! If I can't get an A for quality, I'll get one with tons of New Me quantity! An A for effort if nothing else.

Here's my first topic: food. Everybody has something to say about food.

Here are my questions (and how I'd answer them):

—What's your favorite food? (Chocolate for me, or pizza)

—Least favorite? (Cooked cauliflower)

—How often do you snack? (As often as possible)

—What's the weirdest food you ever ate? (Frog legs, no lie)

—What's the best food to have in a food fight? (Mashed potatoes)

Varoom! I'm off and running! Look! It's a bird! It's a plane! No, it's ace-brilliant-type-Question-Man!

Wednesday, December 6

Got a lot of great answers to my food survey. The grossest was Zach's. He said that when he was at his grandma's house in Kentucky last summer, she made him eat boiled okra. I'd never even heard of okra before, but Zach said, “It's all slimy in your mouth, like snot.” I wondered how he knew what snot is like in your mouth, but you don't ask Zach things like that.

Maybe I'll do my next survey on boogers. I could ask how often people pick their nose. And why they do it. And which finger they use. Index? Pinky? And what they do with it afterward. Then again, maybe I won't.

Got 100 on my history test. I may not know a lot about boogers, but anything you want to learn about the Civil War, just ask!

Thursday, December 7

Another cool survey idea from ace-brilliant-type-Question-Man: growing up, as in …

—What do you want to be when you grow up? (A pro basketball player)

—Are you looking forward to growing up? (Yeah! Then I can drive a car! And eat dessert first.)

—How do you know when you're grown up? (No more pimples, I'd say. And no one tells you what to do.)

Friday, December 8

Today at recess Libby drew a button on the back of each finger. She made a fist and went around asking the girls in our class to pick a button and push it. When they did, she'd unfold that finger and there was the name of the boy they'd marry. When Libby got to Amy, all the girls started hooting really loud. Amy looked embarrassed.

I wonder which boys Libby had written on her fingers.

By the way, Amy wants to be a veterinarian when she grows up. Libby, a lawyer. Tyler, a teacher. Zach, a race car driver, “or a squirrel poop inspector.” Emerson—big surprise here!—an actor.

Saturday, December 9

Great weather today. No rain. Sun even came out and dried up the sidewalk.

Which MC and Jordy figured was in need of decoration. They got colored chalk and were out there all afternoon, which made for peace and quiet inside. It wasn't until I headed over to the park to shoot some hoops that I saw what they'd been doing. In big block letters, stretching from our house to the corner, were the words
CODY LOVES AMY!!!

I chased them around the house three times, but they kept slipping into the bushes and squirming away. Little worms! In the end I had to get the garden hose out of the garage and hook it back up, then turn the nozzle on full blast to wipe out what they kept calling their “art.” Even then you could still see it, though.

For once I'll be really glad when it starts raining again.

Getting REALLY tired of cleaning out Emma's litter box. I asked Dad if he would shorten my punishment. He just laughed.

Monday, December 11

I was in such a hurry to catch a ride to school with Mom this morning that I almost ran out of the house
in my underwear
! After all I've been through, you'd think I'd be more New Me careful.

Thankfully, I caught the Old Me foul-up before I got out the door. Still, it was scary that I could be that much of a space cadet.

Earth to Cody! Earth to Cody!
PAY ATTENTION!

Tuesday, December 12

During math I looked up and Amy was smiling at me. Just smiling that big pretty smile she has. I smiled back. And for a second we just sat there smiling at each other.

Emerson giggled. I glared at him and whispered, “Lay off it! We're just friends.”

New survey topic from ace-brilliant-type-Question-Man: friends, as in, How do you know if a person is more than a friend?

Just wondering.

Wednesday, December 13

Wendell is the custodian at Garfield Elementary School. He's a really nice guy, and does lots of things for kids, like when he helped me fix a flat tire on my bike. He always wears jeans and a plaid shirt and a baseball cap. Ms. B suggested we have a Dress Like Wendell Day. We all said, “Yeah!” Wendell doesn't know, though. It's a surprise!

Thursday, December 14

Somehow Wendell found out about Dress Like Wendell Day. We showed up dressed like him. He showed up dressed in a tuxedo. Ms. B laughed so hard I thought she was going to fall over. Wendell said, “Thank you very much,” and gave her a Tootsie Roll. I started laughing really hard, too, but he just patted me on the head.

Friday, December 15

You've probably heard people say that there are times when you feel like you're stuck between a rock and a hard place, meaning that no matter what you do, somebody is going to see it as wrong. That's what happened to me today at recess.

I was playing basketball. Tyler and Zach and I were on the same team. We were doing great, blowing out those boys from Mrs. Larsen's room. I scored. We ran back down the court, and there were Amy and Libby.

At first I thought they had come to watch super-hoop-star Cody, and would break into cheers. But instead of asking me how it is that I got to be so great, Libby said, “We want to play.”

Zach frowned and said, “No way.”

Amy frowned right back. “Why not?”

“Because you're girls,” Zach said, “and girls can't shoot.”

I groaned. If I've learned anything about Amy, it's that you
never
tell her she can't do something because she's a girl. Her eyes narrowed. “I'll shoot against you any day, Zach!”

Zach laughed. “In your dreams.” He waved her off. “We got a good game going. Go play on the bars or something.”

Amy looked at me like I was supposed to do something. Do what? Tell Zach he's being a macho jerk? Well, even if he was, I couldn't do that. And anyway, we already
had
chosen sides. And we
did
have a good game going. And Amy and Libby
could
go do something else. There I stood, between a rock (that would be Amy) and a hard place (Zach), not knowing what to do or say.

Tyler, however, didn't bat an eye. “This isn't the NBA,” he said. “They can play.” He motioned the girls onto the court. “C'mon. We'll take Amy. Libby, you go to the other side.”

I thought Zach was going to argue, for sure. But he just rolled his eyes and said, “Okay,” and the next thing I knew we'd gone coed.

Well, sort of. Amy and Libby did start running up and down the court guarding people on defense. And on offense they moved around trying to get open and waved their arms so somebody would pass to them, too. Only problem was, nobody did. I tried to get the ball to Amy once, but Zach cut it off and drove for the basket.

Amy got redder and redder in the face, until finally she threw up her hands and said, “BOYS!” then stomped off the court. When I started to go after her, Zach said, “Let her be!” Libby looked daggers at all of us, but particularly me. “Jerks!” she said, then marched after Amy.

I know I should have said more. I know I should have gone after Amy and Libby, no matter what Zach said. But he threw me the ball and said, “C'mon, let's play!” And that's what I did—play.

For the rest of the day, neither Amy nor Libby would even look at me, much less speak. Every now and then Libby would act like she was coughing and say, “Jerk!” under her breath. Looks like I've gone from between a rock and a hard place to the Old Me doghouse.

Saturday, December 16

Woke up this morning thinking about Amy being mad at me. Headed for the shower. It's a good place to solve problems. Ideas come raining down on my brain along with all that hot water. I'd have this figured out in no time.

But MC was headed for the shower, too. As bad luck would have it, we got to the bathroom door at exactly the same time.

MC said, “I get the shower first.”

I said, “No, I do.”

“But I stink!”

“I stink worse!”

“No, I do!”

“No, I do!”

“NO, I DO!”

Mom called from the bottom of the stairs: “What's going on up there?”

It was useless. I said to MC, “Okay, you're right. You stink.”

MC glared at me. “Mom, Cody said I stink!”

Like I said, useless.

So now I'm back in bed, leaning against my pillow while MC takes her shower. By the time I get in there, all the good ideas will be gone, along with the hot water. Which is why I still haven't figured out how to get on Amy's good side again.

New ace-brilliant-type-Question-Man survey topic: little sisters. Just two questions:

—Do you have one?

—How many times a day do you consider locking her in a closet for the rest of her life?

Sunday, December 17

Got our Christmas tree this afternoon. Cut it at one of the Christmas tree farms outside of town. It's a nice one, taller than Dad.

When we got it home, Mom put on Christmas music and we pulled all the decorations out of the attic. It took at least an hour to get the lights untangled and strung. And at least that much more to hang all the ornaments. By the time we finished, it was almost dark outside. We turned off all the lights in the living room and then plugged in the tree.

“It's so pretty!” MC said, jumping up and down.