Judy Moody, M.D. (10 page)

Tonsils, Day 4: Back to Dr. McCavity.

Tonsils, Day 5: BOR-ing! Judy drew a map of her brain.

Tonsils, Day 6: When she became a doctor, she would find a cure for fire-engine tonsils so sick people did not have to make X-rays of cats and maps of their brains all day.

Tonsils, Day 7:
Ding, dong!
Maybe Stink was home from school. Judy crawled back under the covers, put her head under all her stuffed animals, and pretended to be asleep.

“Knock-knock,” said Stink.

“I’m asleep,” said Judy.

“Knock-knock,” said Stink again.

“Stink, have you been eating the BRAT diet again?”

“Just say
Who’s there,
” said Stink.

“Who’s there?” asked Judy.

“US!” said Rocky, Frank, and Jessica Finch. All three of her UN-best friends!

“What are YOU guys doing here?” Judy grumped. “You came to laugh at my chipmunk cheeks, didn’t you? You heard I have bowling-ball tonsils and came to tell me I look like Mumpty Dumpty.”

“No!” said Frank. “We —”

“Wait. Let me guess. You cloned an anteater. An armadillo. An aardwolf. Ha, ha. Very funny.”

“We brought you something to make up . . . I mean, we brought you something to make you feel better,” said Rocky.

“Nothing will make me feel better,” said Judy. “I feel lousy. As in licey. As in not-nicey.”

“But this really works,” said Frank.

“Is it a pill?” asked Judy. “I hope it’s not a pill the size of Nebraska.”

“No.”

“Is it a prune? I hope it’s not a goony old prune.”

“Nope.”

“Is it a Band-Aid? I hope it
is
a Band-Aid with words.”

“No, no, and nope,” said Jessica Finch.

“Does it squeak? I hear squeaking!”

“Yes!” said Jessica.

“Does it have fur, fins, or fangs?”

“Yes!” said Stink.

Rocky held up a shirt with words.

“A shirt does not have fur or fins or fangs.”

“Look,” said Frank, turning the shirt over. “We made it for you at Rocky’s house.” The shirt said
PAWS FOR HEALING.
It had blue guinea-pig paw prints all over it.

“Hello! A shirt doesn’t squeak!” said Judy.

“No,” said Rocky. “But pets do. We brought you animals to pet!”

“Just like Paws for Healing,” said Frank.

“So you can lower your blood pressure and not feel sick,” said Jessica.

Rocky had brought Houdini, his pet iguana. Frank had brought a red-and-purple fish in a jar, and Jessica Finch had brought Chester and all four of the baby guinea pigs — the (un-cloned) Spice Girls!

Stink went to his room and brought back Toady.

“You brought half the zoo!” said Judy.

“And I got you a real Paws for Healing button,” said Stink. “From the hospital gift shop.” He held out a button that said
I’M IN CHARGE OF CRITTER-COOL CARE.

“Cool!” said Frank.

“Critter-cool!” said Judy. She put the Paws for Healing shirt on over her around-the-world-postcard pajamas. She pinned the button to her shirt.

Rocky held out Houdini. “You hold him, while I clip his toenails.”

Snip, snip, snip.

“He has more toenails than Stink!” Judy laughed.

Frank set his fish on Judy’s desk, next to her jelly bean collection. “My aunt got me this Siamese fighting fish when I was sick. I named her Judy.”

“Same-same!” said Judy.

“You can keep her till you get better. I know you can’t pet her, but it’s supposed to relax you and make you feel better just to watch her.”

“I promise I’ll watch her all the time,” said Judy.

“Look! Judy the Fighting Fish is blowing bubbles!” said Stink.

“Rare!” said the not-fish Judy.

“And you can play with Toady anytime you want,” said Stink. “As long as you don’t operate on him.”

“I won’t,” said Judy. “I promise.”

Jessica brought special shampoo, and they each gave a guinea pig a bath. “Coco hates baths,” said Jessica. “But guinea pigs have to be clean.”

“Just like doctors!” Judy said.

When they were done, they each got to blow-dry their guinea pigs.

“Nutmeg’s ready for a party!” said Judy, stroking the guinea pig’s fur. Jessica got Cindy to roll over twice, and Coco twitched her whiskers at Cornflake, Judy’s stuffed guinea pig.

“That means hello in guinea pig,” said Jessica. “She’s trying to make friends!” Everybody cracked up.

Nutmeg squirmed out of Judy’s arms and ran in circles around her room.

“Uh-oh!” said Jessica. Nutmeg ran around Judy’s floor pillow. She ran around Ned Bear, Ted Bear, and Fred Bear, the trash can, and Judy’s doctor kit. She ran around and around Judy’s squiggle rug.

“Catch her!” said Stink.

Everybody chased Nutmeg. Even Mouse. Nutmeg hid under Judy’s squiggle rug. Jessica caught her with an ice-cream container.

“Phew! That was a close one, girl,” said Judy, rubbing the guinea pig’s tummy. “Hey, look! Nutmeg likes tummy rubs!”

“She likes you,” said Jessica.

“Aw. I wish I could keep her forever and ever,” said Judy. “I promise not to clone her.”

“She’s still too young,” said Jessica. “But when the Spice Girls get older, my dad says we can take them to the hospital for Paws for Healing. You know, help some more kids feel better.”

“RARE!” said Judy.

When everybody had gone home, Judy climbed back under the covers and leaned against all her stuffed animals. She was feeling not-so-sick-anymore. Her tonsils did not feel so lumpy. She, Judy Moody, did not feel so grumpy. Friends were better than prunes. Friends were better than medicine. Friends were better than all the ginger ale, ABC toast, and TV in the world.

Her temperature was dropping. So was her blood pressure. Her tonsils were shrinking fast. Most definitely!

Judy Moody took out her mood journal. She wrote herself a poem. A moody poem. A Mumpty Dumpty poem.

Judy took out her doctor pad. She, Dr. Judy Moody, wrote
herself
a prescription.

Last but not least, Judy signed her name with a scribbly doctor autograph.