Mrs. Dole Is Out of Control! (2 page)

Mrs. Daisy came in with our reading teacher, Mr. Macky. They were holding hands and making goo-goo eyes at each other. Ugh! Disgusting! Mr. Macky said he would meet her in the teachers' lounge at lunchtime.
*

Mrs. Daisy and Mr. Macky haven't been married very long. That's why they're so mushy with each other.

Once they've been married for a few years, they'll stop doing all that mushy stuff. My parents have been married for like a century, and they hardly ever do mushy stuff.

“Are you sick, Mrs. Daisy?” asked Emily. “Mr. Klutz told us you went to the doctor.”

“It was just a checkup,” she replied. “Let's get to work. It's time for our Word of the Day. Today's word is ‘unique.'”

“What does that mean?” asked Michael.

“I have no idea,” said Mrs. Daisy, who doesn't know anything. “Does anybody know what ‘unique' means?”

Andrea stuck her hand in the air, of course. Little Miss I-Know-Everything keeps a dictionary on her desk so she can look up words and show everybody how smart she is.

But Mrs. Daisy called on me instead.

“‘Unique' means furniture that's really old,” I said. “My mom has a unique table.”

Everybody laughed even though I
didn't say anything funny.

“That's ‘
antique
,' dumbhead!” said Andrea. “‘Unique' means something that's one of a kind.”

“Oh, snap!” said Ryan.

“I knew that,” I lied. “But a really old piece of furniture that's one of a kind is unique. It's a unique antique.”

Nah-nah-nah boo-boo on Andrea! In her face! No wonder I'm in the gifted and talented program.

After we finished our Word of the Day, it was time for writing. I hate writing.

“The school year is almost over,” Mrs. Daisy said, as she passed out pieces of paper. “Let's write about our favorite
memories of second grade.”

Mrs. Daisy told us to close our eyes and remember some of the nice things that happened since September.

“Remember the time Mrs. Roopy dressed up like Johnny Appleseed?” asked Andrea.

“Yeah,” we all said. Mrs. Roopy is loopy.

“Remember the time we went on a field trip and Mr. Docker ate a bug?” asked Ryan.

“Yeah.” Mr. Docker is off his rocker.

“Remember the time we drove that substitute teacher Ms. Todd crazy and she ran screaming into the parking lot?” Michael asked.

“Yeah.” Ms. Todd is odd.

I couldn't decide if I should write about the time Mr. Klutz was hanging from the flagpole or the time Neil the nude kid's ferret pooped on Emily's head.

“Remember the time we had a food fight in the vomitorium?” Neil asked.

Yeah, that was great. I must admit, even though I hate school, we had some fun in second grade.

“Those were the good old days,” I said. “Remember the time we had a sleepover in the
natural history museum and a giant hissing cockroach crawled into Emily's sleeping bag?”

“That happened last week, Arlo!” Andrea said.

“So did your face,” I told her.

Mrs. Daisy said she had to go to the ladies' room and that we should get started writing while she was gone. As soon as she left, I crumpled up a piece of paper and threw it at Andrea.

“You are so immature, Arlo!” Andrea said. “Maybe you'll get held back.”

“Huh?” I asked. “What do you mean, ‘held back'?”

“Didn't you know?” Andrea said. “They
take the bad kids and make them repeat the grade all over again. You're a bad kid, so you might be held back.”

What?! Could they really do that? If I had known they make kids repeat a grade, I wouldn't have done so much bad stuff.

The next morning, we had to go to the all-purpose room for an assembly. Mr. Klutz got up onstage with Officer Spence, our school security guard. Officer Spence was wearing a fireman costume.

“Today we're going to learn about fire safety,” Mr. Klutz said. “Officer Spence is a
trained firefighter.”

“Fire is very dangerous, kids,” said Officer Spence. “Does anybody know what you should do if your clothes catch on fire?”

I raised my hand, and Officer Spence pointed to me.

“If your clothes catch on fire,” I said, “you should buy new clothes.”

Everybody laughed even though I didn't say anything funny.

“Before you buy new clothes,” said Officer Spence, “you should STOP, DROP, AND ROLL. Watch this.”

Officer Spence did the most amazing thing in the history of the world. He
poured some stuff on his fireman costume. Then he took a lighter out of his pocket and set himself on fire!

Officer Spence's fireman costume was full of flames!

“STOP, DROP, AND ROLL!” shouted Mr. Klutz. “STOP, DROP, AND ROLL!”

We all started chanting. Officer Spence
threw himself on the ground and covered his nose. Then he rolled all over the stage until the fire was out.

Officer Spence makes no sense.

He told us that we shouldn't go home and set ourselves on fire. We learned all kinds of other stuff about preventing fires too. Like you shouldn't ever set your brother or sister on fire.

When we got back to class, Ryan's mom was waiting for us. Ryan hid under his desk. Andrea's mom was waiting for us too. Andrea sat up even straighter than usual (if that's possible) and folded her hands so her mother would know how perfect she is.

The two PTA moms told Mrs. Daisy that the class had a surprise for her. We all went to our cubbies to get our presents. Then we lined up and put them on Mrs. Daisy's desk.

“I got you a box of bonbons,” I told Mrs. Daisy.

“Hey, I got her a box of bonbons too!” said Michael.

“So did I!” said Emily.

“Me too!” said Neil the nude kid.

It turned out that just about everybody in class got Mrs. Daisy bonbons!

That's a lot of bonbons.

“Thank you so much,” Mrs. Daisy said. “You know how much I love bonbons!”

“Everybody loves bonbons,” said Emily.

“Why don't you open a box right now?” Michael suggested.

“Oh, I really shouldn't. I'm trying to eat healthier,” Mrs. Daisy said. “Well, maybe just one.”

Andrea's mom passed out bonbons to everyone. While we ate them, Mrs. Dole went to the front of the class.

“Part of my job as PTA president is to plan your graduation,” she said. “You're going to wear caps and gowns, and there will be a guest speaker and a big cake, and you're going to get diplomas and—”

“Is all that really necessary?” asked Andrea's mom. “With all due respect, the
children are just moving up to third grade.”
*

“Just moving up to third grade?” Mrs. Dole said. “This is an important milestone in the children's lives! Our babies are growing up so fast. Soon they'll be off to middle school. Before we know it, they'll be in high school. Then they'll be going off to college and I won't see my little boy anymore….”

Mrs. Dole started sobbing. Ryan looked like he was gonna die. I thought his mom might tell more stories about Ryan peeing. But she just blew her nose in a
tissue and blubbered something about how much we grew since we were in kindergarten.

Andrea's mom rolled her eyes. I don't
think she likes Ryan's mom very much. But she can't do anything about it because Ryan's mom is the PTA president and she's only the vice president.

Finally, after a million hundred hours, the PTA moms left.

“Is my mother gone?” Ryan asked.

“Yeah,” I told him. “You can come back up now.”

It was the last week of school, so we hardly learned anything. That was fine with me, because learning stuff is boring. But it was hard to concentrate. I kept thinking how in a few days we would be off for the summer.

Mrs. Daisy wasn't concentrating either.
She had a new hobby—knitting! She pretty much sat in the back of the room knitting while Ryan's mom helped us get ready for graduation. Sometimes Andrea's mom came in, too. But she spent most of the time rolling her eyes. Boy, she sure rolls her eyes a lot. Eye rolling must run in Andrea's family.

We had to do all kinds of stuff to get ready for graduation. Did you know that when you graduate, you have to wear a weird cap on your head that's
shaped like a square? Nobody knows why. Mrs. Dole asked our art teacher, Ms. Hannah, to help us make the caps out of construction paper and cardboard. Ms. Hannah also helped us make graduation banners and signs to decorate the hallway.

On Thursday Mrs. Dole had us march from the gym to the playground behind the school so we would learn how to make a grand entrance for our parents. She made us practice over and over again until we got it right.

Did you ever hear of the graduation song? It's this song they always play at graduations. Mrs. Dole asked our music teacher, Mr. Loring, to play that song on
an accordion while we marched around the playground. He told us the real name of the song is “Pomp and Circumstance,” but nobody knows why.

The song doesn't have words. It goes like this:

It's a dumb song, if you ask me. Songs are supposed to have words. So I made up words to the graduation song. They go like this:

You repeat that over and over again. While we were marching around the playground, I taught the words to everybody. Soon the whole class was singing. It was cool. Then Mrs. Dole told us to knock it off.

Practicing for graduation all morning was boring. I couldn't wait for lunch. Finally, after a million hundred hours, Mrs. Dole said it was time to go to the
vomitorium to eat.

I sat at a table with the guys. Michael tried to juggle his Tater Tots. Neil the nude kid put cookies over his eyes. Ryan let us pour salt on his tongue. Andrea and her annoying friends sat at the next table talking about girly stuff, like what color dresses
their dolls like to wear.

“What are you guys doing over the summer?” asked Ryan.

“I'm going to sleepaway camp,” said Neil.

“I'm going to football camp,” said Michael.

“I'm going to cooking camp,” said Ryan.

“My family is going to rent a house at the beach,” I said.

I didn't ask Andrea what she would be doing over the summer. She was probably going to learn her multiplication tables so she would be smarter than everybody in third grade.

Andrea was sitting there all quiet. I
figured she was still mad because her mom lost the PTA election.

“Are you still mad because your mom lost the PTA election?” I asked her.

“No,” Andrea said. “I'm worried about Mrs. Daisy.”

“What about her?” asked Emily, all concerned.

“Haven't you noticed?” Andrea said. “Mrs. Daisy has put on a lot of weight. She's getting fat.”

“It must be all those bonbons we gave her,” said Neil the nude kid.

“She's probably eating a box every night,” Ryan said.

“That's not good for her,” said Emily.

“It's all your fault, Arlo,” Andrea said. “You were the one who thought of giving her bonbons.”

Why is everything always my fault? I didn't force Mrs. Daisy to eat so many bonbons. What is Andrea's problem? I wish a truck full of bonbons would fall on her head.