Dumb Bunny (4 page)

IT WAS PURPLE!

THAT'S
WHAT!

I jumped up and down and all around.

“Purple! Purple! I got purple!” I shouted. “I'm getting the thrill of a lifetime! I'm getting the thrill of a lifetime!”

I skipped over to May. And I smiled real big in her face.

Then I skipped to the middle of the tables. And I did a giant bow.

Giant bows are very enjoyable. Even when no one is actually clapping for you.

After I stopped bowing, Lucille's daddy handed me the beautiful box.

I pulled off the paper as fast as I could.

Then I lifted off its lid.

And I stared inside.

“Hmm,” I said very puzzled. “It's, um … a box of pink fur.”

I scratched my head.

“I've always wanted a box of pink fur … possibly,” I said.

Lucille laughed real loud.

“Silly Junie B. Jones! It's not
just
a box of pink fur! Take it out so you can see what it
really
is!” she said.

Then—just as I was about to pick it up—Lucille grabbed the pink fur.

And she held it up in front of me.

And that is the last actual fun I had at the party.

“A bunny suit! See? It's a bunny suit,” shouted Lucille. “Junie B. is going to be our party's very own Easter Bunny!”

May laughed real loud.

“SHE'S GOING TO BE OUR
DUMB
BUNNY, YOU MEAN!” she called out. “JUNIE JONES IS GOING TO BE OUR VERY OWN DUMB BUNNY!”

Just then, the rest of the children began to laugh, too.

Lucille stamped her mad foot at them.

“Stop it!” she said. “Junie B. is not going to be our dumb bunny! She's going to be our Easter Bunny! This is the finest bunny costume money can buy.”

She held it out to me.

“Here, Junie B. Put it on and show everyone how cute it is!”

She handed me the costume.

I swallowed real hard.

“Yeah, only here's the problem, Lucille. I don't actually like costumes that much. Not even at Halloween,” I said. “Mostly, I just like dressing up as Junie B. Jones, and that's all.”

Lucille's whole mouth came open at that news.

She put her hands over her ears.

“Oh no! Do NOT tell me that, Junie B. Jones!” she said. “You
have
to be the bunny. You
have
to!”

She ran to her daddy and pulled on his arm.

“Make
her, Daddy! Make Junie B. be the bunny!
Make
her!” she yelled.

Lucille's daddy rubbed his chin.

“Well, we certainly would like it if Junie B. was the bunny,” he said. “But we can't really
make
her, Lucille.”

Lucille jumped up and down at me.

“You're going to ruin my whole party, Junie B. Jones!” she grouched. “We hired an expensive photographer and everything! We're all supposed to get our pictures taken with you!”

My ears perked up at that news.

“Pictures?” I said kind of curious.

Lucille nodded.

“Yes! Pictures!” she said back. “The photographer has a seat set up for you in the flower garden!”

My ears perked up some more.

“A seat?” I said. “You mean like … a
Santa
seat?”

Lucille jumped way high in the air.

“Yes, yes! Exactly like a Santa seat!” she said. “The photographer is waiting for you! You're going to be a celebrity, Junie B.! Will you do it? Huh? Will you?”

I sat down in the grass to think about it.

Lucille's daddy bent down next to me.

“You don't have to do this if you don't want to, Junie B.,” he said. “But we do need to get on with the party. So could you make up your mind, please? Do you want to be the bunny? Or do you want us to get someone else?”

Just then, Sheldon shot his hand in the air.

“I'll do it! I'll do it!” he yelled real excited. “I would love to have my picture taken with everyone!”

“Me too!” hollered Shirley. “I would love to do that, too!”

I looked at those two kind of curious.

Maybe I was wrong about this situation.

Maybe being a famous bunny really
was
the thrill of a lifetime.

I pulled the bunny suit closer to me.

Then, very slow, I put one foot inside the costume … then the other foot … Then
ZIP, ZIP, SNAP!
The daddy fastened me up! And bingo! I was a bunny.

I looked down at myself.

My bunny feet were bigger than clown feet.

Also, my ears were floppish.

And my bunny hands looked like giant paw mitts.

I held them out in front of me.

“I could take a pie out of the oven with these things,” I said.

Lucille skipped around me and clapped.

“Yay! Yay! Yay! We have a bunny! We have a bunny!” she sang real happy.

After that, she grabbed my bunny paw. And she started skipping me to the flower garden.

Only too bad for me. ’Cause skipping with giant bunny feet does not actually work that good.

And so …
KERPLOP!

I fell right over in the grass.

Some of the children started to laugh.

Lucille shooed them away.

Then she quick hurried to pick me up. Only her dress started to get wrinkly. And so she dropped me in the grass again. And she smoothed her skirt very neat. Plus also she fluffed her hair. And she shined her shoes.

After that, she yelled to her daddy real urgent.

“DADDY! DADDY! THE BUNNY'S DOWN! COME GET THE BUNNY! COME GET THE BUNNY!”

The daddy ran over and picked me up.

Then he started carrying me to the flower garden.

It felt embarrassing up there.

I tapped on his head.

“This does not actually make me feel like a celebrity,” I said.

The daddy kept on going.

I tapped on his head again.

“No one actually carries Santa,” I said.

Just then, we got to the flower garden.

The daddy put me down. And he showed me the photographer.

His name was Bud.

Bud sat me in my bunny seat. And he arranged my floppy ears.

After that, he went to his camera. And he took my picture.

“Beautiful!” he said. “Gorgeous!”

I smiled.

I liked this Bud.

Pretty soon, the children lined up to get their pictures taken with me.

And guess what?

My bestest friend named Herbert was the very first one in line!

He zoomed to my seat real happy.

“I think you look nice in that bunny costume,” he said. “You don't even look stupid, hardly.”

I smiled again.

“Thank you, Herbert. You don't look stupid, too,” I said back.

After that, both of us said
cheese.
And Bud took our picture.

Lennie came next.

Then after Lennie came José. And after José came Shirley. And after Shirley came all of the other children in Room One.

Except for not May.

Instead, May sat in the grass all by herself. Because
she
was not a celebrity, of course.

I said
cheese
a million times.

Bud kept on saying
beautiful
and
gorgeous
to me.

I felt very puffery inside.

“I am an excellent celebrity,” I told him. “I am making these children's day.”

Bud laughed.

I do not know why.

Finally, all the pictures got taken.

Bud shook my paw mitt goodbye.

I will miss him.

After that, Herb and I walked back to the picnic grounds.

And wait till you hear this!

Lucille's mother was passing out baskets for the egg hunt!

I started to run to get my basket.

Only what do you know?

KERFLOP!

I tripped and fell in the grass again.

The children laughed some more.

I pretended I didn't care.

“It's fun to fall,” I said real stupid.

Even Herb rolled his eyes at that one.

Lucille's mother helped me up and gave me a basket.

I looked at her very upset.

“Yeah, only how am I supposed to hunt for eggs in these big, giant bunny feet?” I said. “I can't even run in these clumsy things. Plus also, I can't tackle or scuffle.”

The mother looked shocked at me.

“Tackle?”
she said.
“Scuffle?
Oh my, no. This is going to be a
polite
egg hunt, Junie B. There will be no running, or tackling, or scuffling. We're all going to behave like little ladies and gentlemen.”

Just then, there was a loud commotion behind me.

I turned around.

May was pointing and yelling at Sheldon and Lucille.

“Stop whispering secrets, Lucille!” she shouted. “You're telling Sheldon where the golden egg is! I
know
you are! I'm telling your daddy! I'm telling your daddy!”

The daddy rushed over there and separated those guys.

“This bickering has
got
to stop!” he said.

“If you three can't behave yourselves, you won't be hunting for eggs at all.”

I smiled at that comment.

That would be a nice development
, I thought.

After he finished scolding them, Lucille's daddy blew a whistle. And he told us to line up at the starting line.

Everyone zoomed past me.

I lifted my feet and stepped real careful.

Then, finally, I got there. And the daddy started telling us the egg-hunt rules.

“Rule number one,” he said. “No running.

“Rule number two: No pushing, pulling, or grabbing.

“Rule number three: No trampling the flowers and plants.

“And finally, rule number four: Do not go anywhere that is roped off.”

He looked up and down the line at us.

“Does everyone understand the rules?” he asked.

I thought for a minute.

Then I raised my hand.

“Also, there is no tackling or scuffling, correct?” I said. “’Cause I have already been informed about that situation.”

The daddy looked odd at me.

“Well, of course there's no tackling or scuffling, Junie B.,” he said. “That goes without saying.”

I thought some more.

Then I pointed at my giant bunny feet.

“Plus there should be no tripping the bunny, right?” I asked. “’Cause the bunny is wearing unfair feet.”

The daddy frowned. “There's no tripping
anyone
, Junie B.,” he said.

I nodded.

“Yes, but there's
especially
no tripping the bunny, correct?” I asked again.

The daddy sucked in his cheeks.

“Okay, fine. There's
especially
no tripping the bunny,” he said. “Now, may I continue?”

I smiled.

The daddy continued.

“The hunt will begin when I count to three,” he said. “You will have thirty minutes to hunt for the eggs. When I blow my whistle, you will all stop hunting immediately. And you will bring your baskets back to the table.”

Roger raised his hand.

“What's the prize for finding the most eggs?” he asked.

Lucille's mother smiled.

Then she held up a big wad of flowers.

“The person who has the most eggs will receive this beautiful bouquet for his or her mother,” she said. “They're irises from our flower garden. I picked them myself. Aren't they lovely?”

Roger looked at the irises.

“I think my mother would rather have a set of Power Rangers,” he said.

Lucille's mother made squinty eyes at him.

That meant no Power Rangers, I believe.

Just then, the daddy blew his whistle.

“Okay! Is everyone ready to start?” he hollered.

“READY!” we hollered back. “READY, READY, READY!”

And so the daddy raised his hand in the air.

And—

“ONE … TWO … THREE!”

The egg hunt was started!