Junie B. Jones Is a Graduation Girl (2 page)

I sat at my table very nice.

Mrs. passed out colored paper for our invitations.

Also, she passed out curly ribbon. And lace. And paste. And bottles of sparkly glitter.

“Just as a reminder,” she said, “we do not paste glitter in our eyebrows. And we do not put lace up our noses. And above all… we do
not
glue curly ribbon to our heads and pretend that it's long hair.”

She looked and looked at me.

I squirmed in my seat a little bit.

’Cause that woman has a memory like a hawk, I tell you.

Finally, Mrs. went to the board. And she picked up her chalk.

“On the inside of our cards, we're going to write a poem about graduation. Does anyone have any ideas for the first line?”

My friend named Grace waved her hand all around in the air.

“Roses are red! Roses are red!” she called out.

“YES!” hollered Room Nine. “ROSES ARE RED!”

Mrs. smiled. She wrote it on the board for us.

“Okay. Now what about the second line?” she asked.

Room Nine hollered again.

“VIOLETS ARE BLUE! VIOLETS ARE BLUE! VIOLETS ARE BLUE!”

Mrs. wrote that line, too.

“Very good, class,” she said. “Now who can think of the third line? Maybe we should try to mention something about
graduation
in this one. Does anyone have any ideas?”

A shy boy named William stood up next to his table.

“Graduation is here,” he said kind of nervous.

Mrs. grinned real big. “Excellent job, William! Excellent!”

She printed it on the board.

“All right. There's just one more line to go,” she said. “Let's try to make the last word rhyme with the word
blue
, okay?”

She read the first three lines out loud to us.

Room Nine thought and thought.

Then—all of a sudden—rhymes started coming from all over the place!

“My dress will be
new
!” called Lucille.

“My dad's name is
Lou
!” called Jamal Hall.

“We made it!
Woo-boo
!” called Lynnie.

Just then, Paulie Allen Puffer springed right out of his chair. And he started laughing his head off.

“THE ZOO IS P.U.!” he shouted his loudest.

And then all of Room Nine laughed our
heads off, too! ’Cause
P.U.
is the silliest rhyme we ever heard of!

Mrs. clapped her mad hands together. “Boys and girls! That's
enough
,” she grouched.

She hurried to Paulie Allen Puffer's table. And she put him back in his seat.

“I do not appreciate that kind of behavior, young man,” she said. “We're trying to write a nice class poem here, Paulie Allen. And your rhyme was entirely inappropriate.”

After that, I tried to stop giggling. But that silly poem kept on staying inside my head.

And then, out of nowhere, another funny poem popped right into my brain! And I couldn't even hold it inside me!

I quick jumped up on my chair.

“ROSES ARE RED,
    VIOLETS ARE BLUE.
    GRADUATION IS HERE,
    AND YOUR FEET SMELL LIKE
STINK!” I shouted.

After that, Room Nine could not even control themselves again. ’Cause that poem was the funniest thing they ever even heard!

My teacher's eyes got big and wide at me.

“Junie B. Jones! Didn't you hear a word I just said?” she said very annoyed.

Then Mrs. hurried to my table.

And she took me into the hall.

And she pointed me straight to the office.

The office is where Principal lives.

I know my way there by heart.

There is a typing lady there, too.

She looked over the counter at me.

“Well, well, well. Would you look who it is,” she said.

I looked down at myself. “Well, well, well. It looks like me,” I said kind of quiet.

The typing lady pointed at the blue chair.

The blue chair is where bad kids sit.
Only I'm not even bad. But I still have to sit there sometimes.

I put my feet on the edge of the chair. And I hid my face in my knees.

If you don't hide your face, people can recognize yourself.

Finally, I peeked one eye at Principal's door.

And guess what? That guy was looking right back at me!

“Is that Junie B. Jones I see out there?” he asked.

I did a gasp.

’Cause Principal can even recognize me from one eyeball, apparently!

I went into his office. And I sat in the big wood chair.

Principal winked at me.

“I'm a little bit surprised to see you,
Junie B.,” he said. “You haven't been sent here for quite some time.”

I nodded.

“I know it,” I said. “That's because my behavior has shown
considerable improvement.”

I pronounced the words very perfect.

“My teacher printed those words on my report card,” I said. “And guess what else showed improvement? My speaking, that's what. ’Cause I don't say
runned
anymore. And I don't say
thinked.
And I don't say
throwed.
Do you want to hear me say them right? Huh? Do you, Principal?”

I took a big breath.

“Ran, ran, ran, ran. Thought, thought, thought, thought. Threw, threw, threw, threw,” I said.

I smiled very proud.

“See? I told you. Mother says I am getting a better vocavulary,” I said.

“Voca
bu
lary,” said Principal.

“Whatever,” I said.

Principal smiled. “Yes. Well, I'm delighted with your improvements, Junie B.,” he said. “But if everything has gotten better, then why are you here?”

I wiggled in my chair very uncomfortable.

“Because it wasn't my fault, that's why,” I said.

“What
wasn't your fault?” said Principal.

I wiggled some more.

Then, finally, I told Principal about how my teacher made us write a graduation poem. And how she said the last word had to rhyme with blue.

“And so Paulie Allen Puffer rhymed the word
P.U.
,” I said. “But then Mrs. got very mad at him. Because she did not appreciate his behavior, young man. Only too bad for me. Because my brain thought of an even sillier poem. And my mouth couldn't hold it inside.”

Principal closed his eyes. He did some deep breaths.

“All right,” he said. “Let's hear it.”

I gulped very worried.

Then I made my voice real soft.

“Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
Graduation is here …

And your feet smell like stink,” I said.

After that, Principal kept his eyes closed a real long time. And he did not say any words.

Then, very slow, he put his head down on his desk. And he started to laugh.

His laughing got louder and louder.

And so guess what? Then I started laughing, too!

“That poem was a beaut! Right, Principal? We are having ourselves a good chuckle over this, aren't we?”

Principal stopped laughing very fast. He raised his head again.

“No, Junie B. No. We are
not
having a good chuckle,” he said. “I'm sorry. Your poem caught me completely by surprise. But I never should have laughed like that.”

He crossed his arms at me.

“You
are
right about one thing, though,” he said. “Your poem is definitely silly. But silly things are not always appropriate to say in the classroom, are they? Your teacher made it clear that she didn't like what Paulie Allen had said, Junie B. But you called out your poem anyway.”

He made squinty eyes. “And please don't blame it on your mouth, okay? You know you could have held it inside.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I don't
know,” I said kind of quiet. “Maybe I could have.”

Principal tapped his fingers on his desk.

“It's a
very
serious matter to disobey a teacher, Junie B.,” he said. “And I want you to sit here and think about just how serious it is. Can you do that, please?”

“Yes,” I said. “l can.”

After that, I squeezed my eyes real tight. And I thought and thought.

Finally, I opened my eyes again. “Good news,” I said. “I've said my last
stink.”

Principal nodded his head. “That
is
good news,” he said.

Then he stood up. And he held my hand. And he walked me into the hall.

“It's been an interesting year getting to know you, Junie B. Jones,” he said. “You're a fascinating little girl.”

“Thank you,” I said. “You are fascinating, too.”

After that, both of us waved good-bye. And I started skipping back to Room Nine.

Then, all of a sudden, I stopped. And I spun around.

“Yeah, only we are not saying good-bye forever. Right, Principal? Right? ’Cause next year, I will get sent down here, too, probably. Or else maybe you and I will see each other on the playground. Right?”

Principal did a chuckle.

“Right,” he said.

“Hurray!” I said. “Hurray! Hurray!”

Then I turned back around and I skipped to Room Nine my fastest.

’Cause maybe if I hurried, I could still sprinkle glitter on something!

I skipped in the door of Room Nine.

Then my whole face got happy.

’Cause guess who was talking to my teacher?

It was Gus Vallony, that's who!

And Gus Vallony is my favorite janitor!

I zoomed right over to that guy.

“Gus Vallony! Gus Vallony! It is a joy to see you!” I said. “And so what brings you here, anyway?”

Gus Vallony patted my head.

“I had an important delivery to make, sis,” he said.

Just then, my bestest friend Lucille came running up to me.

She pointed to a big stack of boxes.

“IT'S CATS AND GOWNS, JUNIE B.!” she shouted. “GUS VALLONY BROUGHT US CATS AND GOWNS!”

She twirled me all around.

“I heard him talking to the teacher! The cats and gowns are right there in those boxes! Everyone is getting one for graduation!” she said.

I jumped up and down at that wonderful news!

’Cause who doesn't love cats? That's what I would like to know!

“CATS AND GOWNS!” I hollered.

“CATS AND GOWNS!” hollered Room Nine.

Mrs. sat down in her chair real slow. Then Gus Vallony patted her shoulder. And he said the word
good luck.

Mrs. said for Room Nine to please stop shouting.

“I'm sorry, boys and girls. But Lucille did not hear me correctly,” she said. “No one in Room Nine is getting a cat and gown for graduation.”

Room Nine did a loud groan.

“Then what are we
getting
, exactly?” I asked.

“Caps
and gowns,” said Mrs. “You're all getting a
cap
and gown for graduation. Not
cat
and gown.”

“No, no, no!” said Lucille. “I heard you
say
cat
, teacher! I know I did! I know I did!”

Mrs. said for Lucille to hush. Then she passed out the boxes to all the children.

I looked inside my box real curious.

Then I kept looking and looking. Because something was not right in there.

“My cap got run over by a truck, I think,” I said. “It is a big, square flatso.”