Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Wrecking Ball (Book 14) (Diary of a Wimpy Kid 14)
Page 7
sounded pretty COOL, but I know that, if it
happened to ME, everyone would just use me as a
charging station.
140
Rodrick had a theory about how the wasps were
getting in, but it sounded kind of CRAZY.
He explained there are lots of different TYPES
of wasp, like paper wasps and mud wasps. He said
we’ve probably got SEWER wasps, and they’re
getting in through the TOILETS.
Well, I’ve never heard of a sewer wasp before,
but I’m not taking any CHANCES.
Right now we’ve got a rodent problem and an insect
problem, and I’m not sure which is WORSE. I
don’t know why our house can’t be infested with
something CUTE instead. Because if we were
overrun by KOALAS I really wouldn’t have a
problem with it.
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Saturday
Last week the builders had to disconnect our air
conditioner so they could bring in a bigger unit.
So for now we’re all sleeping in the basement,
because that’s the only place in the house where
it’s COOL.
I can see why Rodrick likes it down there,
ESPECIALLY in the summer. I don’t love being
underground, though, which is making me rethink
the whole plan for my dream house.
Dad said, when he was growing up, some people
built BUNKERS where they could go if there was
a war or something.
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Well, living in a tiny underground space with my
whole family sounds like a TERRIBLE idea. First
of all, the snacks would be gone by the second
day. And if we only had one toilet down there,
we’d have MAJOR problems.
I guess we’d have a periscope so we’d know when
the coast was clear on the surface. But if the
periscope got BLOCKED we might never know it
was OK to go back UP.
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Dad said some people still build bunkers so they
can stay safe if there’s a natural disaster,
like a TORNADO or something. Well, this
morning I thought we were experiencing an
EARTHQUAKE, and the LAST place I wanted
to be was underground.
But the reason the ground was shaking was because
the builders were outside JACKHAMMERING.
They were breaking up our OLD driveway so they
could pour a NEW one, and I was pretty sure
the neighbours weren’t gonna be happy about all
the NOISE. Especially Mr Larocca, who had
just got home from his shift at the hospital.
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But I was EXCITED about the new driveway.
Our old one was in really bad shape, so you
couldn’t really USE it for anything. And maybe
that’s what’s been holding me back from becoming
a professional athlete all this time.
When they hauled the rubble away and the lorry
came to pour the fresh concrete, I started to
get NERVOUS.
A lot of the kids in my neighbourhood are
JERKS, and if they see wet concrete they’ll
write stupid stuff in it.
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On top of that, Mrs Rutkowski’s CATS have
been in our yard a lot lately hunting for MICE,
and I didn’t want a bunch of paw prints in the
freshly poured concrete.
So, after the builders finished, I patrolled the
perimeter to make sure everyone stayed OFF.
I was watching the STREET, but it turns out
I should’ve been watching the GARAGE.
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I heard the door open, and Rodrick started
reversing his VAN out. I tried to STOP him, but
he was playing his music too loud to hear.
I couldn’t BELIEVE no one in the house had
told him about the driveway. But it turns out
they had a really good excuse, because they were
dealing with a more SERIOUS problem.
SMOKE was pouring out of the windows on the
ground floor, and I heard SIRENS in the
distance.
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Mom came running out of the front door, and
Dad was right behind her.
Ten seconds later a FIRE engine pulled up at
the kerb, and a couple of firefighters got out.
They ran across the lawn and on to the front
path, which the builders had just finished
pouring.
That’s when everyone realized that MANNY was
still inside. But thankfully he’d already had
PRACTICE for this sort of thing.
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The GOOD news is, there wasn’t actually a FIRE,
there was just a lot of SMOKE. But the bad news
is, it was MY fault.
Last week, when we were putting our food in
places where the mice couldn’t get at it, I hid
some snacks in the OVEN.
So, when Mom preheated the oven to put in
a batch of bacon this morning, a plastic bag
MELTED. It’s kind of UNFORTUNATE,
because that was a waste of some perfectly good
crisps.
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And this was definitely one of those times when
I could’ve used that escape hatch at the back
of my closet.
Wednesday
Believe it or not, Mom and Dad have already
moved past the whole crisp-packet incident. And
that’s good news for ME.
But the REASON they’ve forgotten about it is
the BAD news.
A few days ago, the building inspector came out
to check the framework of the extension.
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And, when he DID, he found out the whole
structure was too close to Mrs Tuttle’s property
line by about three FEET.
I guess the construction company messed up when
they created the plans for the extension, but the
council didn’t catch the mistake when they issued
the building permit. So now there was just a bunch
of finger-pointing, and no one would take any
responsibility.
The building inspector told us the only thing we
could really do NOW was to get our next-door
neighbour to sign something that says we had
permission to build the structure close to her
property line. But that wasn’t gonna be EASY.
The other day, when the concrete guys came
back to patch up the driveway and front path,
they set up their cement mixer on our lawn. But
I guess they forgot we were on a HILL, because
the mixer tipped over and poured fresh concrete
right into Mrs Tuttle’s GARDEN.
So, when Mom and Dad asked for Mrs Tuttle’s
permission to keep our extension where it WAS,
she wasn’t looking to do them any favours.
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Mrs Tuttle wouldn’t BUDGE, and the council told
Mom and Dad the whole structure was gonna have
to come DOWN. And that’s exactly what happened
this afternoon.
So now EVERYONE’S unhappy, except for
MANNY. He finished work on HIS place
TODAY, and he had a housewarming party to
celebrate.
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JUNE
Thursday
Mom’s been in a real funk
ever since the extension
was torn down.
I figured we’d just start over and build it the
RIGHT way this time. But Mom said we’d burned
through most of Aunt Reba’s inheritance during
construction, and we were gonna need to spend
the REST patching up the side of the house.
So Mom was ALREADY in a bad mood when my
test results came in the post, and they didn’t
cheer her up any.
It wasn’t only MY results that were bad,
though. The whole class did poorly, and I can
tell you the reason WHY.
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During the middle of the test, some kid let the
Stress Lizard out of its tank, and it’s really hard
to CONCENTRATE when there’s a REPTILE
on the loose.
So I guess this means the school is gonna lose its
funding, and Mom’s not HAPPY about it.
In fact, she’s so upset she’s saying we should
MOVE so we can live in a better school district.
But nobody ELSE is crazy about moving to
another town. Dad grew up here, and he says he
doesn’t see any REASON to move.
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And RODRICK doesn’t wanna leave, either. He
says his band is FAMOUS in our town, and he
doesn’t wanna start over somewhere else. But I
don’t know how famous you can really BE if your
last concert was at a bowling alley.
Rodrick says he’s NEVER moving, and, even if
the REST of us moved out, he’d just keep living
in the basement.
And, to be honest with you, I don’t think Rodrick
would even NOTICE if a new family moved in.
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I don’t think MANNY’S going anywhere, either.
He just put in a sprinkler system, and his yard is
really coming on nicely.
Truthfully, I didn’t know how I felt about moving.
I guess I’m OK with where we live now, but
maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to start fresh
somewhere ELSE.
The great thing about moving is that when you go
to a new place you can decide who you wanna BE.
Maybe I could come up with a new LOOK, and
people would think I was a “bad boy”.
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I could even become a whole new PERSON, and
tell everyone I’m a professional snowboarder or
something.
But maybe I could take it even further than
THAT. I could pretend I’m from another
COUNTRY where they don’t speak English.
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And then my teachers would be impressed when I
picked up some new phrases.
It’s actually kind of FUN imagining a whole new
life for myself in a different place.
Back in elementary school, we used to play this
game called M.A.S.H., which stands for Mansion,
Apartment, Shack, House. I’d write down all the
possibilities for my future, and then roll a dice
over and over and strike things out until I only
had one item left in each category.
I actually found some of my old M.A.S.H. sheets
from the fifth grade in my closet a few weeks back.
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Whenever I played, I always hoped I’d get
a perfect result. But even if I got a good choice
in most categories there would always be that one
item that ruined EVERYTHING.
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One of the reasons I liked playing M.A.S.H. so
much was because it was a good chance to hang