24 February 2012
The F on my paper was the least of my worries. I had bigger problems to deal with, like John getting gum in my hair, and me, stupidly, trying to cut it put myself. Fail. Now my hair is ruined for school photos Friday. I have a red stain down the front of my new yellow dress, and I tore my leggings at recess. I hate fourth grade.
It was bad enough that the fifth graders picked on us, now they shared recess with us too. You can imagine the struggle. I sat with Abigail May, a new kid, that was a little weird in the head if you know what I mean. She sat there sipping cranberry juice out of a little rectangular cup that they give all sorts of juices to you in nowadays. Then it didn't go so well, she squeezed that little container to hard and out shot loads of juice, right on to my new dress! I pretended that it didn't bother me, but it did. Oh well, dresses never were a favorite if mine. One time in third grade I had on a frilly pink dress, and I went on the monkey bars upside down. So then Jimmy Fisher saw my pink underwear, ever since he's called me P.U.
Young • Opuss № I