Junie B. Jones Has a Monster Under Her Bed

My name is Junie B. Jones. The B stands for Beatrice. Except I don’t like Beatrice. I just like B and that’s all.

I am in the grade of afternoon kindergarten.

Today we got school pictures taken at that place.

School pictures is when you wear your bestest dress. And you go to the cafeteria. And a cheese man is there.

He makes you say
cheese
. Only I don’t actually know why.

Then he takes pictures of you. And your mother has to buy them. Or else you will get your feelings hurt.

School pictures is a racket, I think.

I wore my new dress with the dinosaur on the front.

“A dinosaur, huh?” said the cheese man.

I smoothed my skirt very lovely.

“Yes,” I said. “It is a Tyrannosaurus Dottie.”

“You mean Tyrannosaurus
Rex
,” he said.

“No. I mean Tyrannosaurus Dottie. ’Cause Rex is the boy. And Dottie is the girl,” I explained.

The cheese man stood behind his camera.

“Say
cheese
,” he told me.

“Yeah, only guess what? I don’t actually know why I have to say that word. ’Cause what’s cheese got to do with it?” I asked.

“Cheese makes you smile,” said the cheese man.

I shook my head.

“Not
me
. Cheese doesn’t make
me
smile,” I said. “’Cause sometimes I eat a cheese sandwich for lunch. And I don’t even giggle when I swallow that thing.”

The cheese man did a big breath.

“Could you please just say it?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “I can
please just say it
. Only don’t forget to tell me when you’re ready. ’Cause one time my grampa Frank Miller was taking my picture. And he didn’t tell me he was ready. And then one of my eyes turned out opened. And the other one turned out closed.”

I made the face to show him.

“See? See my eyes? See how one of them is opened and the other one is…”

All of a sudden, the cheese man took my picture.

My mouth came wide open at him.

“HEY! HOW COME YOU DID THAT? HOW COME YOU TOOK MY PICTURE? ’CAUSE I WASN’T EVEN READY YET!”

The cheese man kept on clicking his camera.

Pretty soon he looked at the next person in line.

“Next,” he said.

I stamped my foot.

“Yeah, only I wasn’t ready, I tell you! And so I need another turn!” I said.

Just then, my teacher came over. And
she pulled me away from there.

She sat me next to her on a bench.

Her name is Mrs.

She has another name, too. But I just like Mrs. and that’s all.

Mrs. said
settle down
to me.

Then me and her watched the rest of the children get their pictures taken.

My bestest friend named Lucille went next.

She had a blue satin ribbon in her hair.

“My nanna says this ribbon brings out the blue in my eyes,” she told the cheese man.

She opened them real wide.

“See them? See their color? They are robin’s egg blue…with just a
hint
of lavender.”

The cheese man sucked in his cheeks. He
was getting fusstration in him, I think.

“Could you please just say
cheese
,” he grouched.

Lucille smiled real big with all her teeth.

“Cheese!” she sang very loud. “Cheese! Cheese! Cheesie, cheese, cheese!”

Then she kept on singing
cheese
, till the cheese man said, “Knock it off.”

After she was done, Lucille skipped over to me and Mrs.

“Did you see me?” she asked. “Did you see how good I said
cheese
? That’s because I’m going to be a model when I grow up. So I already know how.”

She fluffed her fluffy hair.

“The camera is my friend,” she said.

Mrs. rolled her eyes way up at the ceiling. I looked up there, too. But I didn’t see anything.

After that, it was time for the class picture.

The class picture is when all of Room Nine lines up in two rows.

The biggie kids stand in the back. And
the shortie kids stand in the front.

I am a shortie kid. Only that is nothing to be ashamed of.

I stood next to Paulie Allen Puffer.

He looked very admiring at my dinosaur dress.

“Dinosaurs bite people’s heads off,” he said.

I did a frown.

“Yeah, only they don’t even scare me. ’Cause there’s no such things as dinosaurs anymore,” I told him.

“So? There’s still such things as monsters that can bite your head off,” said Paulie Allen Puffer. “A monster lives right under your bed, I bet. My big brother says that
everybody
has a monster under their bed.”

He poked his finger at me.

“Even
you
, Junie B. Jones,” he said.

I got shivers on my arms.

“No, I do not either, Paulie Allen Puffer,” I said.

“Yes, you do too,” he said back. “My brother is in seventh grade. And he says the monster waits till you’re asleep. Then he crawls up next to you. And he lies down on your pillow. And he practices fitting your head in his mouth.”

I covered up my ears. But Paulie Allen Puffer talked louder.

“I can even
prove
it,” he said. “Didn’t you ever wake up with a drool spot on your pillow?”

I thought very hard.

“Yeah…so?”

“So where do you think it came from?” he asked. “It came from the
monster
under
your bed, that’s where. It was
monster
drool, Junie B. Jones.”

I shook my head real fast.

“No it was not, Paulie Allen Puffer! You stop saying that! And I mean it!”

He raised up his eyebrows.

“Well, where did it come from then?
You
don’t drool on your pillow. Do you? You’re not a
baby
, are you?” he said.

“No! Don’t call me that! I am not a baby!” I yelled.

Paulie Allen Puffer crossed his arms.

“So where did the drool come from then?” he asked again.

“I don’t know,” I said. “But my daddy told me there’s no such things as monsters.”

“So what? Daddies
have
to say that,” said Paulie Allen Puffer. “That’s so you’ll go to sleep at night and not bother them.”

He squinted his eyes at me.

“Why do you think daddies and mommies sleep together in the same room, anyway? It’s so they can
protect
each other from the monster. Or else their heads might get chewed off.”

Just then, I wrinkled up my nose at that terrible thought. Then I hanged out my tongue. And I did a sick face.

And guess what?

The cheese man took the class picture.

After school pictures, we went back to Room Nine.

I put my head down on my table.

“There’s no such things as monsters. There’s no such things as monsters,” I whispered to just myself. “’Cause my very own daddy told me that. And he wouldn’t even lie to me…probably.”

Mrs. said for me to sit up in my chair.

She passed out work for us to do.

It was called printing our letters. Only
I didn’t actually feel like doing that.

I tapped on my bestest friend named Lucille.

“Guess what, Lucille? There’s no such things as monsters. There’s really, really not. And so a monster doesn’t even live under my bed, probably. Right, Lucille? Right? Right?”

“Shh! I’m doing my letters,” she said.

“Yes, Lucille. I
know
you are doing your letters. Only I just wanted to tell you about the monster. ’Cause he’s not even real …right?”

Lucille didn’t say
right
.

“How come you’re not saying
right
, Lucille? Just say
right
. Okay? Just say
monsters aren’t real
. And I won’t even bother you anymore.”

All of a sudden, Lucille did a mad breath.

“Now
look what you made me do, Junie B.! You made me ruin my big G! I
told
you not to bother me!”

She quick grabbed her paper and runned to Mrs. to fix it.

I tapped my fingers on my table.

Then I turned around and looked behind me.

I smiled at a boy named crybaby William.

“Guess what, William. There’s no such things as monsters. And so a monster doesn’t even live under my bed, probably. Right? William? Right? Right?”

William moved his seat away from me.

I followed him in my chair.

“I’m right, don’t you think, William? A monster really
doesn’t
live under my bed, does he? Plus also, he doesn’t put my head in his mouth.”

William sliled his chair away some more.

I scooted after him.

“Just say
right
. Okay, William? Just say there’s not a monster under my bed. And I will be on my way.”

William picked up his chair. He carried it all the way to the middle of the floor.