Dear Dumb Diary #5: Can Adults Become Human?

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Dear Dumb Diary #5: Can Adults Become Human? Page 6

by Jim Benton


  collages and Isabella needed to get even for that,

  as well. (Remember? That’s how she rolls. Oh man, I

  want a way to roll.)

  105

  So this is why today, right after school,

  Isabella ran out to the parking lot, got down on her

  hands and knees, and crawled up to Miss Anderson’s

  car. Her plan was to let the air out of one of the

  tires so she couldn’t make it over to the party. But

  here’s the thing: Bruntford was already there letting

  the air out herself.

  106

  Why? Right? I mean WHY??? You know

  why? You want to know why? Isabella asked

  her why. And you know what she said? Because Aunt

  Carol is her friend. For whatever weird reason that

  friends like each other, the two of them just hit

  it off. It was LIKE AT FIRST SIGHT. Bruntford

  did it for her friend. And in that moment, she and

  Isabella were just . . . normal humans. They were

  two people who were enjoying a beautiful crime

  together. Bruntford even gave Isabella a ride over

  to my house.

  107

  We came out of the bathroom just as Angeline

  was walking in. INTO MY HOUSE. And her hands

  were, probably for the first time ever, dirty. And

  what was Angeline doing here? And why were here

  hands dirty?

  108

  Fortunately, I had the assistant principal

  there to get to the bottom of things.

  “Where were you, Angeline? Why are your

  hands so dirty?”

  “I stopped to help Miss Anderson fix a flat on

  her car,” she said. OH, HO! THAT FIGURES! ! !

  Leave it to Angeline to help the enemy.

  “So, uh, where is Miss Anderson?” Aunt

  Carol asked in a tone that suggested she hoped an

  escaped tiger was involved.

  109

  “I guess I wasn’t much help,” Angeline said.

  “I lost the nuts, and we couldn’t attach the spare

  tire to the car. Miss Anderson apologized. She said

  she would probably miss the party.”

  “Go wash your hands, Angeline,” Mr. Devon

  said. “I have a little announcement.”

  110

  Isabella watched Angeline walk through

  my actual house, which was now full of actual

  teachers. When she got back, we found out what the

  little announcement was:

  Assistant Principal Devon slid his hand

  around Aunt Carol’s waist and said, “I’d like to

  introduce you all to the future Mrs. Devon. Carol

  and I are engaged.”

  Angeline went over and hugged Assistant

  Principal Devon and said:

  "Congratulations, Uncle Dan."

  UNCLE DAN?

  Angeline is his NIECE? It all made sense.

  Angeline knew about this. She knew that I’m

  Aunt Carol’s niece. Does that mean we're

  related? At the very least, we’re co-nieces.

  Mom said nothing can get under your skin like

  a relative. So did Isabella. Angeline and I are

  now . . . cousins? Second cousins? Something like

  that. Anyway, Angeline will be my aunt’s niece, as I

  am. Angeline knew all of this, and was taking some

  sort of sick delight in it —I just knew it.

  111

  My mom cried. Bruntford attempted

  Gigglecide against Isabella, and this time,it

  looked . . . okay for some reason. Like, it wasn’t

  so weird seeing Bruntford happy.

  The teachers clapped and laughed and raised

  their glasses. Angeline came and stood next to me

  and I think that she may have been doing it just

  to look clean and lovely and bright in comparison.

  From this moment on, I would never be able to be

  the clean and lovely and bright one. At best, all I

  can hope for is SECOND FILTHIEST, and NOT

  THE DUMBEST.

  It was as though nobody on earth could fully

  grasp the tragedy of me being related to Angeline.

  Except maybe Stinker, who chose this exact

  moment to sum up how I was feeling by walking into

  the living room and cutting the fart he had been

  baking for three weeks.

  We had to run outside and watch through

  the windows as Stinker ate the incredibly delicious

  appetizers off everybody’s plates. He had planned

  this all along. I just know it. Nobody was willing to

  go back into the house. Nobody could have. Well-

  played, Stinker, you pungent skunk-hound.

  I thought Mom was going to totally freak

  out. She had been planning this party for so long

  and now all of her hard work was disappearing

  down the gullet of a beagle. But then somebody

  started laughing this loud, barking, out-of-control

  laughter that just makes you laugh when you

  hear it.

  It was Mr.VanDoy. There was something

  about a house-clearing dog fart that finally got

  to him. Dog farts. That’s right. That’s what makes

  VanDoy smile. And laugh. And made everybody

  else— including my mom— laugh, which

  considering how much time she had spent on her

  appetizers, was pretty amazing.

  113

  I went over to congratulate my Aunt Carol.

  My heart wasn’t in it, but she was so happy that

  I almost couldn’t bring myself to say something

  mean about Angeline.

  But I have a lot of willpower so I did anyway.

  “You know, Angeline was trying to help Miss

  Anderson get to your party today. That’s pretty

  lousy, don’t you think? Trying to wreck your special

  moment?” And Aunt Carol just laughed.

  She said, “Jamie, the other day I was over

  at Dan’s house, and Angeline changed the oil in

  my car. The girl knows her way around a wrench. If

  Angeline lost the nuts, she lost them on purpose.”

  Then it became clear to me. Isabella and Miss

  Bruntford had slowed Miss Anderson down, but

  Angeline must have seen her changing the tire and

  knew she’d make it here and spoil this moment for

  my Aunt Carol. So Angeline pretended to help and

  she lost the nuts on purpose. She did it because she

  knows that Assistant Principal Devon and Aunt

  Carol belong together. She wasn’t mad the other

  day that Miss Anderson had chosen my valentine,

  she was mad that Miss Anderson was butting in.

  114

  Although I still think she was partially

  motivated by being able to make me look bad. From

  now on I have to make sure that my gruesome little

  cousin attends all family functions so that I can

  carry him around like an accessory. That’s got to

  help a little.

  115

  Eventually, Miss Anderson did stop by. She

  got a ride from the tow-truck guy that came to

  help her with her car. She talked and giggled with

  Assistant Principal Devon and Aunt Carol like

  nothing had ever happened. And since the tow-

  truck guy was a total hottie, Isabella says that Miss

  Anderson is not g
oing to hold a grudge against us.

  And let’s face it — Isabella is an expert on grudges.

  I sat down on the porch and watched

  everybody mingle on the front lawn and laugh.

  And I remembered when Isabella and I were trying

  to figure out if adults could become human, and I

  finally realized that they couldn’t.

  But I also realized that humans can’t become

  adults, either.

  116

  Here’s how I see it: We all get mad, we all

  care about our friends, and we all have a selfish

  side. But animals have all those things, too. The

  difference is that we humans laugh about stuff,

  and we laugh like crazy. It was Mr.VanDoy that made

  me ask the question: Can adults become human?

  And it was Mr. VanDoy that helped me answer

  it. Here, tonight, at my house, everybody was a

  human. There were no adults.

  So exactly what are adults and where do they

  come from? I have no idea, but I am pretty sure that

  I do not want to go there.

  Who would have believed that a beagle fart

  could open your eyes and make them burn at the

  same time?

  Thanks for listening, Dumb Diary.

  117

  scholastic.com

  About Jim Benton

  Jim Benton is not a middle-school girl, but do

  not hold that against him. He has managed to

  make a living out of being funny, anyway.

  He is the creator of many licensed properties,

  some for big kids, some for little kids, and some

  for grown-ups who, frankly, are probably behaving

  like little kids.

  You may already know his properties: It’s

  Happy Bunny™ or Catwad™, and of course you

  already know about Dear Dumb Diary.

  He’s created a kids’ TV series, designed

  clothing, and written books.

  Jim Benton lives in Michigan with his spectac-

  ular wife and kids. They do not have a dog, and

  they especially do not have a vengeful beagle.

  This is his first series for Scholastic.

  Jamie Kelly has no idea that Jim Benton, or

  you, or anybody is reading her diaries. So, please,

  please, please don’t tell her.

  www.scholastic.com/deardumbdiary

 

 

 


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