Judy Moody, Mood Martian

by Megan McDonald

  This story could go on and on and on. What a lemonhead! Writing a story was so not putting her in a good mood. Who else could she get ideas from? Mom? Dad? Stink?

  It had to be somebody smart and somebody who never got sent to Antarctica.

  Wait just a ding-dong minute! What could be more perfect than to talk to Little Miss Perfect? Somebody who brushed her hair every day and followed all the rules and got good grades and had never even been near Antarctica.

  Somebody who had a happy Magic 8 Ball.

  Jessica A-plus Finch! Of course!

  Judy could learn the facts about doing everything right all the time. Being perfect was sure to put her in a good mood. All she had to do was study her subject. Like a science experiment!

  She grabbed her notebook and hopped on her bike and pedaled down the street and around the corner to Jessica Finch’s house.

  Ding-dong! Judy rang the bell. Jessica A-not-Aardwolf opened the door.

  “Judy Moody? What are you doing here?”

  She could not tell Jessica “Tell-All” Finch her secret. Then the whole world would know. “I, um, thought we could hang out,” said Judy.

  “But you never want to hang out.”

  “Never say never,” said Judy, pushing past Jessica. “Can I come in?”

  “You are in,” said Jessica.

  “Well, um, how about if I come up to your room?”

  “Sure,” said Jessica. “I was just going to start measuring things for Measure Up!, our new math unit.”

  “But that doesn’t start till Thursday,” said Judy.

  “I like to get a head start,” said Jessica.

  Judy perched on the edge of the bed next to Jessica. She bounced up and down, testing out the jump factor.

  “My mom doesn’t like me to bounce on the bed,” said Jessica.

  “Check,” said Judy. She scribbled DO NOT BOUNCE ON BED in her notebook. Judy stared sideways at Jessica. Her hair was brushed back into a very neat ponytail and she was wearing pink. Judy wrote PUT HAIR IN PONYTAILS and WEAR PINK in her notebook.

  “Why are you staring at me?” asked Jessica. “It’s rude.”

  “No reason,” said Judy. She looked around. The bed was made and there were a hundred million fluffy pink pillows on it. Stuffed-animal pigs were lined up in a row on the dresser. So was a piggy-bank collection.

  No books or clothes were on the floor. No arts-and-crafts supplies were on the floor. No gum wrappers were on the floor. A pink robot poster on the wall said OBEY. It was creepy, but Judy didn’t say so.

  “Your floor is very neat,” said Judy. “I can see the rug.”

  “Thanks,” said Jessica. “I like my room clean. It puts me in a good mood.”

  “Check.” Judy wrote CLEAN ROOM in her notebook.

  “Why are you writing stuff down?” asked Jessica.

  “No reason,” said Judy, sniffing the air. “I smell cupcakes. Do you smell cupcakes?”

  Jessica cackled. “That’s my lip gloss.” She flipped open a teeny-tiny pink plastic cupcake. Inside was gooey lip stuff. Judy tried some. Yum, yum! Maybe cupcake lip gloss was another key to a good mood.

  Judy wrote down WEAR CUPCAKE LIP GLOSS. “You like smiley faces, huh?” In Jessica’s room, Judy saw a smiley-face pillow, pencil holder, and paper clips. She saw smiley-face sunglasses and slippers. Even a smiley-face mobile hung over Jessica’s desk. She picked up Jessica’s smiley-face Magic 8 Ball. “Can I try?”

  Jessica nodded.

  Judy had a burning question. But it was a secret. So she asked herself the question silently. Will I be able to stay in a good mood for one whole week?

  She shook the Happy 8 Ball. Nice outfit. She asked the question and shook it again. Your breath is so minty! She tried again. You smell great.

  “It keeps telling me that I smell great,” said Judy.

  “It’s the lip gloss.” Jessica nodded knowingly. “Want to do homework now?”

  Judy wrote DO HOMEWORK ON TIME in her notebook.

  Jessica got out her Positively Pink see-through ruler. She got out her Positively Pink tape measure. She even had a Positively Pink yardstick.

  “Wow. You have a yardstick? I have a yardstick of bubble gum. It’s this long.” Judy stretched out her arms. “Well, it used to be. There’s actually only two and three-quarters inches of gum left. But the box is a yard-long ruler — for real! And it has jokes and —”

  “I wouldn’t use it for homework if I were you,” said Jessica.

  Judy looked around for something to measure. “Do you have a cat? We could measure stuff like the cat’s tail!” said Judy.

  Jessica crinkled her forehead. “I was just going to measure the carpet.” She started to stretch the tape measure across the rug. Bor-ing!

  This being in a good mood was harder than it looked. Judy’s fingers itched.

  If only she were back in her closet with her finger knitting.

  She stared at Jessica some more. “Do you ever miss the bus to school?” Judy asked.

  Jessica wrinkled her forehead again. “Why would I do that?”

  “I mean, are you ever late to school? Say you slept late. Or read your book under the covers when you should have been getting ready. Or didn’t do your Spelling homework and decided to stay home sick.”

  “I always do my Spelling homework. I never fake sick. And I have a Walkie Clockie,” said Jessica. She pulled an alarm clock with wheels from her nightstand. “It beeps like a robot and jumps off my nightstand when it’s time to get up. I have to get out of bed to chase it around.”

  “Can I try?” asked Judy.

  “Sure.” Jessica set the clock to go off in one minute. They waited. They waited some more.

  Eep! Beep! Walkie Clockie leaped to the floor. “Out of bed, sleepyhead.” It zoomed across the carpet. “Up and at ’em, madam!” It zoomed under the bed. “Rise and shine, friend of mine!” Judy chased it all around Jessica’s room.

  “Wow!” said Judy. “It walks. It talks. It rhymes. It chimes.” She wrote down GET WALKIE CLOCKIE SO I’M NEVER LATE in her notebook. “That was fun. Let’s do it again. This time —”

  “It’s not really a game,” said Jessica. She put the clock back on her nightstand. “C’mon, let’s do our homework.”

  Judy looked at her to-do list. She had a lot to do if she was going to stay out of Antarctica. She had a lot to learn about being in a good mood. “I can’t,” said Judy. “I have to — um — go finish my science experiment.”

  “Science experiment?” Jessica sat up straight. Her eyes got wide. “What science experiment? We don’t have any —”

  But Judy was already down the steps and halfway out the front door.

  Yippee skippy!

  First things first. As soon as Judy got home, she pulled her hair back into two Jessica Finch ponytails. Then she cleaned up her room like a friend without an R. F-I-E-N-D, spelling word #23 on Mr. Todd’s homework list. Definition: maniac. She huffed and puffed, picking up books and games and art supplies and stuffed animals. Yawn-o-rama. Mouse watched her every move. She huffed and puffed more putting away shirts and shorts and socks and pajamas. Bor-ing times two!

  Mouse pounced on a sock. “Give it. It’s not play time, Mouse. I wish.”

  She even tossed her finger knitting into the closet.

  Jessica Finch was cuckoo-for-coconuts if she thought cleaning your room could put you in a good mood.

  Next Judy did her this-week homework. Read, read, read. Spell, spell, spell. Multiply. Divide. Done!

  Doing her homework on time did not put her in a good mood.

  “Now what, Mouse?” Judy asked. She checked her notebook. Eureka! She, Judy Moody, had an idea.

  Judy dug and dug like a badger to the way-back of her closet. She pulled out her last-year Christmas presents. Under the hand-knitted dancing mouse sweater from Grandma Lou was a present from Nana and Gramps in California. It was not a way-cool Make-Your-Own Gum kit. It was not a way-cool Make-Your-Own Seashell Night-Li
ght kit. It was a Make-Your-Own Lip Gloss kit! Cotton candy, chocolate, cupcake!! Double exclamation point!!

  Last Christmas, Judy would not have been caught dead wearing smelly lip gloss. But that was before the Jessica experiment. She had to try it now — in the name of good moods.

  Judy did not want to mess up her clean room, so she messed up the bathroom instead. Warm water, sticky hands, smelly flavor and . . . voilà! Cupcake lip gloss.

  Mww! Mww! Mww! Judy looked in the mirror and smacked her lips. Yum, yum. She licked her lips. Oops. Now she needed more lip stuff. Smack, smack, smack. Lip-smacking good! Cupcake lip stuff did put her in a bit of a better mood. Who knew?

  Judy went back to her room. Sing a song of tuna fish! Her finger-knitting chain snaked and snarled out the closet door, up, over, and around the doorknob, across the dresser, and onto the floor, where Mouse was curled up sleeping on a heap of it.

  Judy tugged an end out from under Mouse. “Who yarn bombed my clean room, Mouse?” she said. “Don’t even try to say it was Stink.”

  At last, she had time for her new rave — finger knitting. She went to her closet to get some more yarn. But there was no more yarn. Not one ball. Not one skein. Not even a snippet. She was O-U-T out.

  Judy ran downstairs. “Mom! Mom! Can we go to Bullseye? It’s a yarn emergency!”

  “Sorry, honey,” said Mom. “All this yarn costs money. Let’s wait and ask Grandma Lou for some yarn next time we see her.”

  “But . . . !” Judy was about to say it was so not fair. Judy was about to say she could not wait. Judy was about to stomp up the stairs. But that would mean she was in a mood. Not a good mood. A bad mood.

  Judy dashed back upstairs. Her frowny-face mood pillow glared at her.

  It was only GMD #1, Good Mood Day Number One. Judy had to be stomp-free for the rest of the week. This being in a good mood all the time sure was not as easy-peasy, mac-and-cheesy as it looked.

  Judy went badgering in her closet again. She pulled out the hand-knitted dancing mouse sweater from Grandma Lou. The mouse had fluffy ears and a fluffy tummy and a fluffy tail. Judy pulled at the pink fluff. Oops! Look at that. A thread came loose.

  She glanced at the door to make sure no one was watching. She pulled at the thread some more. Pull and tug and pull some more and before she knew it, the sweater was not a sweater. It was a spaghetti mess of Y-A-R-N yarn!

  Just what she needed. Knit, knit, knit. She had to work fast before Mom or rat fink Stink found out. Judy turned her pillow around to Smiley Face.

  Her chain got a little longer and a little longer. It sneaked and snaked out into the hallway now. But she was out of yarn again in no time flat.

  She climbed the steps to the attic. Maybe she’d find some old yarn there. Pfff. Cobweb city! She tore through dusty old bags and boxes and bundles.

  Eureka! A stash of yarn odds and ends. Knit, knit. Loop-de-loop. She was back in her room finger knitting up a storm when Stink came in, hands behind his back.

  “Guess what I have,” said Stink.

  “A toad?”

  “Nope.”

  “A cookie?”

  “Nope.”

  “I give up.”

  “It’s something in the sea,” said Stink.

  “An octopus?”

  “Yes! How’d you know?” Stink brought his hands out from behind his back. He had long tentacles on his fingers.

  “Cool octopus fingers,” said Judy.

  “Squid fingers,” said Stink. “Wanna play Super Squid Attacks Japan? I’ll be Super Squid and you can be Manta Ray. Or Tooth Fish. Or Creepy Eel.”

  “How about Electric Eel?” Judy asked.

  “Sure.”

  “No, thanks. I’m finger knitting.”

  “We could play Spider-Man,” said Stink. “I could be Doc Ock. Doctor Octopus. You could be . . . somebody in a bad mood.”

  “I’m not in a mood, Stink. I’m happy as Larry.”

  “Who’s Larry?”

  “A guy who’s happy? I don’t know. It’s a saying, Stink. Never mind. I’m happy as a hermit crab.”

  “You’re still a crab. Even your pillow’s in a mood.” Stink pointed to the frowny face.

  “Must have been King Kong,” said Judy. “It was on the smiley side, I swear!”

  Judy had an idea. “How about I show you how to finger knit and you can make a chain and we’ll add it to my chain and —”

  “Bor-ing!” said Stink. “Knitting is for old ladies.”

  “Finger knitting isn’t,” said Judy. “Finger knitting is way-cool. If I knit a super-duper long chain, I can yarn bomb the house. Or the car. Or Virginia Dare School!”

  Stink perked up. “Yarn bomb?”

  “You wrap the chain around something outside — like the seesaw at the playground or a flagpole at school or that Virginia Dare statue in the park.”

  “I Virginia-Dare you to do that!” said Stink.

  “Okay, so not the statue, but maybe a park bench.”

  “I’m in,” said Stink.

  Before you could say Super Squid, Stink was loop-de-looping yarn up, over, and around his tentacle fingers. Judy kept knitting. Mouse batted a ball of yarn around the room.

  “I think I got the hang of it,” said Stink. He held out his hands. Cat’s cradle! The yarn tangled up and over and around his tentacles in one big yarn yuck.

  “Super Squid is not the best at this,” said Judy.

  Stink cracked up. “So? Who ever heard of a squid that can knit?” Pop! Pop! Pop, pop, pop! He pulled off his tentacles. That’s when he noticed something strange about Judy’s room. Books were lined up on the shelves. Erasers were in a jar. Even Jaws was wearing a hair ribbon. “Hey, your room is weird.”

  “Is not.”

  “Is too.”

  “It’s just neat, Stink. I cleaned it up.”

  “Oh, did Mom and Dad make you?” Stink asked.

  “Nobody made me,” said Judy.

  “Then why did you clean your room?”

  “No reason.”

  Stink picked up a few balls of yarn and started to juggle. “By the way, your hair’s weird, too,” said Stink.

  “They’re called ponytails,” said Judy. She checked her ponytails in the mirror. “I’m going to wear them for School Picture Make-Up Day.”

  Stink dropped one of the yarn balls. Mouse pounced on it. Stink sat on Judy’s bottom bunk. Judy picked up her finger knitting and climbed up to the top bunk. Knit, knit, knit. She did not say a word.

  “Aren’t you going to tell me to get off your bed?” Stink asked.

  “You can sit there if you want,” Judy told him. “It’s a free country.”

  “Free country, huh?” Stink kept juggling. He started to hum. He hummed the “If You’re Happy and You Know It” song. He hummed the “Nouns and Verbs Rap Song.”

  Finally, he couldn’t stand it anymore. “Aren’t you going to tell me to stop humming? And juggling? Aren’t you going to call me your little bother and say I’m a pest and tell me you have to do homework?”

  “I did my homework.”

  “WHAT? You did homework before dinner?”

  “It’s not against the law to do homework.”

  “It’s against the Law of Judy,” said Stink.

  He ran to get a flashlight and shone it in Judy’s eyes. “Who are you, anyway?” Stink asked. “Why is your hair all funny and why are your lips all shiny and what’s with looking in the mirror all the time? What have you done with my sister?”

  “Stink, get that thing out of my eyes!”

  “Imposter! Fakester! Fraudster!” Stink squealed. “Where’s your pod? Did you come to Earth on a space flower?”

  Judy could no-way not-ever tell Stink her good-mood secret. Instead she said, “Yes, Stink. I’m a clone. And you’re next.”

  “I want my sister back. The NOT-homework-doing sister with the messy hair and the messy room and —” Stink stopped in his tracks. He sniffed the air. His super sniffer smelled something. Somethi
ng strange. Something sickly sweet, like candy.

  “Do you smell . . . cupcakes?” Stink asked.

  “It’s my lip gloss,” said Judy.

  “AAGH!” yelled Stink. “Invasion of the body snatchers! I’m telling Mom.”

  Stink ran downstairs. Judy sat on the top step and eavesdropped while Stink told Mom and Dad all the ways that she was acting weird. He told Mom and Dad that the real Judy was snatched by Pod People. He told them that the person pretending to be his sister was really a clone.

  “Maybe we should clone you,” Mom said. “If it means you’ll clean your room.”

  “Hardee-har-har!” Judy heard Stink say. “This is no joke.”

  “I did notice she cleaned Mouse’s litter box without being told,” said Mom.

  “And she borrowed my tape measure and didn’t even break it,” said Dad. “Maybe our girl’s growing up.”

  “Ugh!” said Stink.

  Judy tiptoed back to her room and gasped. Red yarn. Yellow yarn. Blue yarn. Pink yarn. Green yarn. Yarn, yarn everywhere! Judy’s room was one big giant spiderweb. Her rug looked like King Kong’s plate of spaghetti.

  “AARGH!” she cried.

  Stink came running upstairs. “Who did this? You and your pod-people pals?”

  “Not unless our cat’s an extraterrestrial,” said Judy. “Here, kitty, kitty. Or should I say knitty, knitty?” She pulled the guilty Mouse out from under her bunk bed, where she had been playing soccer with a ball of red-and-green yarn.

  “She looks like a Christmas stocking!” said Stink, pointing and laughing.

  “Not funny, Stink.” Judy held up the empty bag. “This was all the yarn I had for finger knitting. Now it’s one big jumbo jumble. And my room is . . . Planet Spaghetti.”

  “Cool,” said Stink. “It’s like a Yarn Yeti lives here. Let’s do my room next.”

  “Stink! Did you not hear me? It’s going to take a year to untangle this.”

  Judy felt a roar coming on. Her eyes went big. Her cheeks got puffy. Her face turned red. But she, Judy Moody, had to stop it in its tracks. She could not get in a mood about the Yarn Yeti, no matter how abominable it was. Whatever she did, she could not say roar.