by Jeff Kinney
here’s what I found: a sheet of construction
paper with a piece of candy taped to it, and it
was from Rowley.
Sometimes I just don’t know about that boy.
fresh
100
March
Saturday
The other day Dad found Manny’s blanket, Tingy,
on the couch. I don’t think Dad knew what it
was, so he threw it away.
Ever since then Manny’s been turning the house
upside down looking for his blanket, and finally
Dad had to tell him that he accidentally threw
it out. Well, Manny got his revenge yesterday
by using Dad’s Civil War battlefield as a playset.
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Manny’s been taking his anger out on everyone
else, too. Today I was sitting on the couch just
minding my own business, and Manny walked up to
me and said —
I didn’t know if “Ploopy” was some kind of little-
kid bad word or what, but I didn’t like the
sound of it. So I went to find Mom and ask
her if she knew what it meant.
Unfortunately, Mom was on the phone, and
when she’s gabbing with one of her friends, it
takes forever to get her attention.
Ploopy!
Mom Mom
Mom Mom
Mom Mom
Mom
Blah Blah
Blah Blah
Blah
Tug
Tug
I finally got Mom to stop talking for a second,
but she was mad that I interrupted her. I told
her Manny called me “Ploopy,” and she said —
That kind of threw me for a second, because it’s
the exact question I was trying to ask her. I
didn’t have an answer, so Mom just went back to
her conversation.
After that, Manny knew he had a green light to
call me Ploopy whenever he wanted, and that’s what
he’s been doing all day.
What is a Ploopy?
Wipe my
heinie,
Ploopy!
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I guess I should’ve known that telling on Manny
wasn’t gonna get me anywhere. When me and
Rodrick were little, we used to tell on each other
so much that it made Mom crazy. So she brought
out this thing called the Tattle Turtle to solve
the problem.
Mom came up with the Tattle Turtle idea when
she taught preschool. The idea behind the Tattle
Turtle was that if me and Rodrick had a problem
with each other, we had to tell the Tattle
Turtle instead of Mom. Well, the Tattle Turtle
worked out great for Rodrick, but not so
much for me.
Tattle turtle,
rodrick stole all
the money from
my piggy bank!
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On the car ride to church today, I felt like I
was sitting on something sticky. And when I got
out and turned around to look at the back of my
pants, there was chocolate all over them.
Manny had brought his Easter bunny with him
in the car, and I must’ve been sitting on an ear
or something.
Mom was trying to get the family inside so we
could get good seats, but I told her there was
no way I was going in there looking like that.
I knew Holly Hills and her family were probably
already there, and I really didn’t need her
wondering if I’d pooped in my pants.
Easter
105
Mom said skipping church on Easter wasn’t an
option, and we argued back and forth. Then
Rodrick chimed in with his solution.
Rodrick knows that church on Easter is always
at least two hours long, so he was just looking
for an excuse to get out of it. But right at
that moment, Dad’s boss and his family pulled up
alongside us in the parking lot.
He can wear
my pants!
Happy Easter,
heffleys!
Honk
Mom made Rodrick put his pants back on, and then
she gave me her sweater to tie around my waist.
I don’t know which was worse: wearing dress pants
with chocolate all over them or wearing Mom’s pink
Easter sweater like a kilt.
Church was pretty full. The only seats that were
empty were right up front where Uncle Joe and
his family were sitting, so we sat next to them.
I looked around, and I spotted Holly Hills and
her family three rows back. I was pretty sure
she couldn’t see what I was wearing from the
waist down, so that was a relief.
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As soon as the music started up, Uncle Joe
reached out to hold hands with me and his wife,
and he started singing.
I tried to break free a couple of times, but
Uncle Joe had an iron grip. The song was only
like a minute long, but to me it felt like half
an hour.
After the song was over, I turned to the people
behind us, pointed at Uncle Joe, and made the
“cuckoo” sign so everyone knew I wasn’t on board
with this holding-hands thing.
Twirl
108
Somewhere in the middle of church, they passed
a basket around so people could give money to
help the needy.
I didn’t have any money of my own, so I
whispered to Mom to see if she would give me a
dollar. Then, when the basket came to me, I
made a big deal of putting the dollar in the
basket to make sure Holly could see how generous
I was.
But when I put the money in the basket, I
realized Mom had given me a twenty, not a
single. I tried to grab the basket to make
change, but it was too late.
All I can say is, I better get some points in
Heaven for that donation.
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I’ve heard that when you do good deeds, you’re
supposed to be all private about it, but that
doesn’t really make a whole lot of sense to me.
If I start hiding my good deeds, I’m sure I’ll
just regret it later on.
Like I said before, the Easter service is super
long. One of the songs was going on for about
five minutes, and I started looking for ways to
entertain myself.
But what about
that squirrel I
helped with the
broken leg?
Sorry ... I
must’ve
missed that.
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The way that Rodrick keeps himself busy when
he’s bored is by picking at this scab on the back
of his hand that he never lets heal, but I’m not
really interested in going that route.
Manny has it made in church. Mom and Dad let
him bring all sorts of stuff with us to keep him
entertained. Believe me, Mom and Dad never let
me bring anything to church when I was his age.
Mom and Dad always baby Manny, though,
and I’ll give you an example of what I’m talking
about. Last week Manny was at preschool, and
when he opened up his lunchbox his san
dwich was
cut in half, not in quarters, the way he
likes it.
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Manny threw a huge temper tantrum, and the
teachers had to call Mom. So she left work and
drove all the way down to Manny’s school to
make the extra slice.
Anyway, I was thinking about this at church, and
all of a sudden I got an idea in my head. I
leaned over to Manny and whispered —
Well, Manny completely lost it.
There you
go, sweetie!
Sniff
Ploopy!
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He started bawling, and everyone in the church
turned their heads our way. Even the minister
stopped talking to see what was going on.
Mom couldn’t calm Manny down, so we had to
leave. Instead of walking out the side door,
though, we walked right down the center aisle.
I tried to look as cool as possible when we
walked past the Hills family, but it was pretty
tough, considering the circumstances.
The only person more embarrassed than me was
Dad. Dad tried to cover his face with the church
bulletin, but his boss spotted him and gave Dad
the “thumbs up” on the way out.
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Things have kind of been tense around the house
since the mess the other day. First of all, Mom was
really mad at me for calling Manny “Ploopy,” so I
had to remind her that she didn’t have any problem
when manny said it. So Mom banned the word
for everyone, and she said that if anyone was
caught saying it, they’d be grounded for a week.
But of course it didn’t take long for Rodrick to
find a loophole.
Wednesday
Monday
Pl-
Tuesday
-oo-
Today
-py!
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This isn’t the first time Mom has banned us
from saying certain words in the house. A while
back, Mom made a “no swearing” rule, because
Manny was picking up new words left and right.
Every time someone said a bad word in front of
Manny, they had to put a dollar in his “Swear Jar.”
So Manny was getting rich off of me and Rodrick.
And then Mom upped the ante by banning words
like “stupid” and “jerk” and stuff like that.
@#$%!
@#$%!
Drop
Smash
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To keep from going bankrupt, me and Rodrick
came up with a bunch of code words that meant
the same thing as the banned words, and we’ve
been using them ever since.
Every once in a while, I forget to switch back
when I get to school, and I end up looking
dumb. Just today, David Nester spit out a piece
of gum and it landed in my hair. I really let loose
with everything I had, but I don’t think I upset
David too much.
Spooky
stork!
Raspberry
plastic
tickle bear!
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The other thing that’s changed since Easter is
that Dad has been on me and Rodrick’s case. I
guess he’s tired of us looking bad in front of his
boss, Mr. Warren.
Dad made Rodrick enroll in an sat class, and
he made me sign up for Rec League soccer.
Soccer tryouts were tonight. The coaches lined
up all the kids for a “skills test,” where you had
to dribble the ball between some cones and stuff
like that.
I tried my best, but I got ranked “Pre-Alpha
Minus,” which I’m sure is just adult code words
for “You Stink.”
I said go
around
the cones!
Doink
After the skills test, they put us on different
teams. I was hoping I’d get one of those fun
coaches who doesn’t take sports too seriously, like
Mr. Proctor or Mr. Gibb, but I got the worst
one out of the whole bunch, Mr. Litch.
Mr. Litch is one of these drill sergeant types
who likes to yell a lot. Mr. Litch used to be
Rodrick’s coach, and he’s pretty much the reason
Rodrick doesn’t do sports any more.
Anyway, our first real practice is tomorrow.
Hopefully, I’ll just get cut so I can get back to
playing video games. Twisted Wizard 2 is supposed to
come out soon, and I heard it’s awesome.
You need a
haircut!
118
I got put on a team with a bunch of kids I
didn’t really know. The first thing Mr. Litch did
was hand out uniforms, and then he told us to
come up with a team name.
I suggested that we call our team the “Twisted
Wizards,” and get the Game Hut to sponsor us.
Nobody liked my idea, though. One kid said we
should call the team the “Red Sox,” which I
thought was a terrible idea. Number one, the Red
Sox are a baseball team, and number two, our
soccer uniforms are blue.
But of course everyone else loved the idea, and
that’s the name that won out. Then the assistant
coach, Mr. Boone, said he was worried that if we
called our team the Red Sox, we might get sued.
Thursday
119
I’m pretty sure those guys have better things to
do than to go around suing middle school soccer
teams, but like I said before, nobody wanted to
listen to my opinions.
So the team voted to change the name to “Red
socks,” and that was final.
After that we started practice. Mr. Litch and
Mr. Boone made us run laps and do leg-lifts and a
bunch of other stuff that had nothing to do with
soccer. In between wind sprints, I hung out by
the water cooler with the other two Pre-Alpha
Minus guys. And every time we were slow getting
back to the field, Mr. Litch would yell —
Get your
butts over
here!
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Me and the other guys thought it would be pretty
funny if the next time Mr. Litch said that, we all
ran at him with our butts sticking out.
So the next time Mr. Litch yelled for us to get
our butts over there, I ran with my rear end
pointed at him. But the other guys totally
hung me out to dry.
Mr. Litch did not appreciate my sense of humor,
and he made me run three extra laps.
When Dad picked me up at the end of practice,
I told him that maybe this soccer thing wasn’t
such a good idea, and that he should probably
just let me quit.
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That made Dad pretty mad, so he said —
Which isn’t really true at all. I’m a huge quitter,
and so is Rodrick. And I think Manny is on his
third or fourth preschool by now.
Anyway, I got the feeling that if I’m gonna
get out of soccer, I’m gonna have to think of
another angle.
Ever since I started playing soccer, I’ve been
going through my clothes twice a
s quick as I did
before. I’ve been totally out of clean stuff to
wear for a while now, so I’ve been pulling all of
my clothes out of my dirty laundry piles. But I
found out today that recycling clothes from the
dirty laundry pile can be risky.
No son of
mine is a
quitter!
Friday
122
I was walking by some girls in the hallway
today, and a pair of dirty underwear fell out of
one of my pant legs. I just kept walking and
hoped that the girls might think the underwear
wasn’t actually mine.
But I paid the price for that decision later on
in the day.
Hee hee hee!
plop
A pair of boys’ underpants
with the name “Greg H.”
written on the waistband was
found in the hallway. Would
the owner please come to the
front office to retrieve his
article of clothing?
Har har
har!
Har har
har!
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I think I’d better hurry up and learn how to
do my laundry, because I’m really running out of
options. Tomorrow I’m gonna have to wear a
T-shirt I got from my Uncle Gary’s first wedding,
and I’m really not looking forward to it.
I was kind of down in the dumps on the walk home
from school today, but then something happened to
change that. Rowley told me one of his friends
from karate was having a sleepover this weekend,
and he asked me if I wanted to come along.
Gary and Linda
Everlasting Love
124
I was about to say “no way,” but then Rowley
said something that got my attention. The kid
who’s having the party lives on Pleasant Street,
which is in the same neighborhood that Holly Hills
lives in.
At lunch today I overheard a couple of girls saying
that holly is having a sleepover Saturday night,
so this could really be the opportunity of a
lifetime for me.
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