Dear Dumb Diary #10: The Worst Things in Life Are Also Free

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by Jim Benton

dad broke his leg, she brought down a cake she

  made that tasted like cigarettes. She has a little

  dog we call Smokey because every time he barks, he

  coughs and then spits something out.

  42

  “One, please,” she said, and handed me a

  quarter that smelled like cigarettes.

  Angeline picked up a cup and tilted the

  pitcher, then tilted it more and more. Nothing

  came out. Isabella grabbed the empty cup from

  her hand and gave it to Cigarette Grandson.

  “Here you go,” she said.

  “But it’s empty,” he said.

  “Yeah. It’s the cup that costs a quarter,”

  Isabella said. “The lemonade was free while

  supplies lasted, but the supply ran out.”

  43

  I handed Cigarette Lady back her quarter.

  “Just kidding,” I said. “I guess we sold out. Try back

  tomorrow.”

  Cigarette Grandson was crushed. I think when

  he stays there, his grandmother almost never takes

  him out, and the inside of her house has the aroma

  of an active volcano. We watched them walk

  back home. A few minutes after they went inside,

  we couldn’t smell them anymore.

  “What happened to all the lemonade?” I asked.

  “Angeline drank it a little bit at a time when

  the two of us weren’t looking,” Isabella said quickly,

  adding, “I have to use your bathroom again.”

  Isabella ran inside, and Angeline and I

  started gathering up the lemonade stand stuff.

  “I did not,” Angeline said. She smiled

  pleasantly, which is exactly the kind of smile you

  want to push down somebody’s throat at a moment

  when she probably single - handedly destroyed your

  lemonade stand / restaurant.

  Dad told me not to worry about paying him

  back for the stuff we bought, but Mom reminded us

  that I had to, because that was the deal I made. Hey,

  way to go, Mom, with that memory thing, for the first

  time in history when Dad’s not being a cheapskate.

  Monday 09

  Dear Dumb Diary,

  I truly believe I could solve everybody’s

  problems if they would do just one simple thing:

  Everything I say.

  Today on the phone, Angeline and I went over

  our follow-up plan for the lemonade stand. Isabella

  couldn’t come over because she drank too much of

  something yesterday —but it wasn’t lemonade —

  and she still felt a little sick.

  I told Angeline about these books I read

  where the girls were babysitters and I think they

  also solved crimes. I thought it would be a great

  idea if we raised money by babysitting and/or

  solving crimes.

  44

  45

  Here were my points:

  1) Who doesn’t love little kids? Parents,

  that’s who. And that’s why babysitters are

  always in demand.

  2) It is probably not that hard because all of

  the babysitters in the books have plenty

  of extra time to solve crimes and have

  crushes and be rock stars.

  3) Angeline cannot drink a child, so she won’t

  screw up our business.

  Angeline objected to the child-drinking

  reference because it’s important to her to continue

  to deny that she stole our lemonade. Whatever. I’m

  past that.

  46

  I tossed out a name for our babysitting

  service, which I think is brilliant: Baby-o-

  tastical- abulous. Angeline didn’t really

  respond to it one way or another (envy can make a

  person speechless), but she said that babysitting

  isn’t always as easy as you think. Then I asked her

  how she knew, and my penetrating line of crime-

  solving-babysitter questioning forced her to

  confess something:

  She DOES babysit sometimes.

  I know, right? Behind our backs, while we’re

  trying to maintain the Baby- o -tastical-abulous

  babysitting service and children’s boutique, she’s

  competing with us!

  I know she felt guilty about it because she

  said she’d ask her mom’s friend if she needs a

  babysitter this week. If she does, the three of us

  can babysit her client together at Angeline’s house.

  I called Isabella with the news. She was

  really excited about the whole idea except for the

  babysitting part. Babies don’t really like Isabella

  for some reason, and I don’t know why. My theory

  is that it’s the smell of the soap she uses, or the

  reflections on her glasses, or maybe they’re just not

  very tolerant of people who yell at babies.

  Anyway, Isabella finally agreed and even

  came up with a great idea of taking pictures of

  us to use in flyers to advertise Baby-o- tastical-

  abulous, which is the name of our company even

  though Angeline and Isabella believe it is not.

  47

  48

  I was so excited when Angeline called.

  Now THAT’S a sentence I never thought I

  would be capable of writing. Unless it went on to

  say: . . . out helplessly from the bottom

  of an elevator shaft.

  Tomorrow morning we actually get to babysit

  at her house! Her mom’s friend is going to leave her

  one- year-old in our official care for about three

  hours. I have to get to sleep now so that we can

  begin our exciting new career tomorrow.

  But before I do, maybe I’ll just sketch out a

  few of the baby fashions I expect we’ll soon be

  offering in our boutique.

  49

  Tuesday 10

  Dear Dumb Diary,

  Okay, Dumb Diary, before I tell you about

  today, I need to make one point very clear: As

  always, nothing is my fault.

  We showed up at Angeline’s house just before

  eleven and met Angeline’s mom’s friend, Mrs.

  Twining, and her little boy, Ricky. Ricky is the

  very fat one- year- old individual that we were

  contracted to babysit.

  Angeline has babysat Fat Ricky several times

  before, and could have easily handled the whole

  thing while Isabella and I watched TV. But that

  didn’t really seem to be in the spirit of what we

  wanted to do when we launched Baby- o- tastical-

  abulous Vegetarian Day Care and Boutique. I mean:

  We all needed to play a part.

  Babies, like people, need to be fed, and given

  beverages, and according to Angeline, they want to

  play. So Isabella and I sat down on the floor and

  played with Ricky while she got his lunch ready.

  We weren’t quite sure how to do it, so Isabella

  poked him a few times to see if he liked that. He

  didn’t. I let him play with my shoe, and he was

  perfectly happy until Angeline came in and pulled it

  out of his mouth. That makes me doubt if she really

  knows what makes children happy. Our organization

  should review her credentials.

  50

  51

  Perhaps out of anger at Angeline for taking

  his fa
vorite shoe- toy away from him, Ricky

  stinkfully performed a dirty diaper.

  I have spent a lot of time around BFO

  (Beagle Fart Odor), so Ricky’s smell did not

  instantly murder me, although an extended period

  of time in his odor cloud would have massacred us

  all. I wondered if it was possible for Ricky to have

  somehow eaten several dozen beagle farts, but I’m

  not sure that’s even possible.

  Angeline held her nose and said she’d take

  care of it, but luckily for her, Isabella was there to

  help out. Isabella is very difficult to disgust due

  to the fact that her mean older brothers have

  subjected her to a lifetime of grossness.

  “I know what to do,” she said, and took Ricky

  into the other room. “C’mon, Ricky. Let’s put a fresh

  diaper on you.”

  Angeline looked a little concerned, but I

  pointed out that Isabella actually had little cousins

  of her own and knew how a diaper was operated.

  52

  After that, we gave Ricky lunch, which was

  pretty funny because when Isabella put her

  sunglasses on him, he looked a lot like her grandpa

  and how he eats.

  We all started laughing really hard and that

  made Ricky laugh, too. So hard, in fact, that he

  started to stink again, also like Isabella’s grandpa.

  (Nobody in her family is allowed to tell him jokes.)

  So Isabella just picked up Ricky and whisked

  him away. “Let’s put a fresh diaper on you,” she

  said. Angeline and I were surprised that she wasn’t

  really very angry about it.

  53

  For the next two hours, we were actually a

  pretty good team. Angeline would tell me how

  to play with Ricky, I would do the actual non- shoe

  playing, and whenever Ricky started smelling icky,

  Isabella would take him into the next room and put

  a fresh diaper on him.

  I never knew that babies needed so many

  diapers. Angeline said it was pretty unusual for

  Ricky to go through seven diapers in three hours,

  but maybe he had a big breakfast or something.

  Anyway, Baby-o- tastical -abulous looked like

  a huge success, based on projections I did using the

  math that teachers always said I would need in

  the Real World. Mrs. Twining was sure to tell her

  friends how great we were, and I figured we would

  have a whole ranch full of babies to sit before you

  knew it.

  Hello, Screamotopia !

  When Angeline’s mom and Mrs. Twining finally

  got back to Angeline’s, everybody was really happy

  because we were going to get paid and Ricky was

  still in one piece and we were going to get paid.

  54

  Ricky started bouncing around and began to

  stink again. Isabella said, “No worries. I’ll put a

  fresh diaper on him before we go.”

  Mrs. Twining laughed and said, “Oh, don’t be

  silly. Your job is done, girls. I’ll change his diaper.”

  She picked him up and walked into the other room,

  After about a minute, she called Angeline’s

  mom to come in.

  Then they walked little Ricky out. All he had

  on were his diapers.

  All eight of them.

  He was wearing the one he wore over to

  Angeline’s, plus the seven that Isabella had layered

  on. We didn’t notice because, as I mentioned

  earlier, Ricky is on the tubby side of fat.

  55

  Aaaaaand we’re not getting the endorsement

  from Mrs. Twining I’d hoped for.

  Isabella said she knew that she was supposed

  to change Ricky’s diapers, but it occurred to her

  that if she just covered the dirty one with a fresh

  one it would lock in the stink, and wasn’t that the

  point anyway? (When you think about it, she was

  pretty much right.)

  When the stink started leaking out, Isabella

  got the impression that Ricky was kind of messing

  with her, so she kept adding layers. She asked Mrs.

  Twining if she ever got that impression about Ricky,

  or if Ricky maybe had a bad attitude or

  something.

  It got a little worse from there, and we got a

  lecture from Mrs. Twining about how important it is

  to take care of babies properly, and Isabella got a

  little angry and said it wasn’t our fault that her kid

  poops his pants.

  56

  In the end, we did get paid, which was

  a relief because at one point somebody said

  something about somebody’s baby looking like an

  ape. See, this is all about timing: You should always

  wait to tell the mom her baby looks like an ape until

  AFTER you get paid, because the ape observation

  (though accurate) probably cost us our tip. Still, we

  pulled in twenty dollars, which means that when

  we subtract what I owed my dad we have, like, ten

  dollars now. That’s PURE PROFIT.

  But I don’t think we’re going to babysit in this

  town again. So now that Baby- o- tastical- abulous is

  officially closed, we need a new line of work. Ten

  dollars won’t buy you much amusement at an

  amusement park.

  57

  Wednesday 11

  Dear Dumb Diary,

  Isabella was in no mood to work on our

  amusement park goal today. She said she had

  determined that there would be a brief period of

  time where her brothers would be out of the house

  and her mom would be in the yard, and she

  planned to use that twelve and a half minutes to

  go online.

  It’s not like she’s NEVER allowed to go

  online, in spite of an attempt when she was four to

  break the Internet out of revenge, after her

  mean older brothers showed her a video that scared

  the cupcakes out of her.

  58

  The good news is that you can’t break

  the Internet, no matter how many feet of cable you

  manage to drag out of the wall.

  The bad news (according to Isabella) is

  that you can’t break the Internet, no matter how

  many feet of cable you manage to drag out of

  the wall.

  She says that she just prefers to go online

  privately, when there’s nobody around to interrupt

  her with little distractions like being grounded for

  going online.

  59

  Angeline called to say she was going to be

  babysitting Icky Ricky again today, but Mrs. Twining

  specifically said that she wanted ONLY Angeline on

  the job. I believe that Angeline was telling the truth

  about Mrs. Twining, because Angeline probably

  blamed the multi- diapering on Isabella instead of

  accepting some of the blame herself for NOT

  telling Isabella that Mrs. Twining had some sort of

  weird thing against diaper layering.

  I’m not sure how I feel about Angeline taking

  advantage of the good name of Baby -o -tastical-

  abulous behind our backs (even though she did it in

  front of our faces and isn’t using the n
ame), and I

  told her so.

  She said she’d be willing to put her earnings

  from babysitting into the mutual AMUSEMENT

  PARK FUND, but that she was doing this one for

  free to make it up to Mrs. Twining for the multi-

  diapering incident.

  That seemed fair to me. When I called

  Isabella it seemed fair to her, too, after forty

  minutes of arguing.

  60

  I ran a new moneymaking plan past my mom

  this morning, but here’s something I’ve noticed

  about my mom: She SAYS that she likes the idea of

  me making my own money, but when it’s time for her

  to prove it — like when I told her I’d clean my room

  for twenty dollars — she doesn’t come through.

  And here’s the thing: She’s seen my room. She

  KNOWS that twenty dollars is a bargain. She even

  got angry when I told her that I could offer her a

  light room cleaning at five dollars off my regular

  low low price.

  61

  When Dad got home, I ran some new

  moneymaking ideas past him. He said he’d think

  about them, which is Dad Language for “I will

  not be thinking about these.”

  He also said something about just giving me

  the money, but Mom walked in and he got real quiet.

  62

  Thursday 12

  Dear Dumb Diary,

  This morning, my mom said that she’d pay us

  to wash her car today. That gave me a terrific

  idea: What if I just waited until it rained and then

  charged her for that? That’s really about the same

  thing, right?

  She said it wasn’t the same, so I got another

  terrific idea.

  “What if Angeline and Isabella and I washed

  cars in the driveway today?” I said. I suggested we

  charge fifty dollars per car.

  Mom said that people can get their cars

  washed at the regular old car wash for five bucks.

  So MAYBE they’d be willing to spend $4.50 on ours,

  you know, just because adults love to help kids.

  I’m not sure how chiseling us out of fifty

 

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