Max冬冬

Chapter 4 Miss Daisy Is Crazy!

In the lunchroom I opened my lunchbox and saw that my mom had packed me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I traded it with Michael Robinson for his potato chips. Everybody was talking about Miss Daisy.
“Miss Daisy is crazy,” Ryan said.
“She’s the weirdest teacher I ever had,” said Emily. “She can’t read, she can’t write, and she can’t even do arithmetic.
What kind of a teacher is that?”
“A bad one,” I said.
“Hey, I just thought of something,” Michael Robinson was able to say even though his mouth was filled with peanut butter. “Do you think that maybe Miss Daisy isn’t really a teacher at all?”
“What do you mean?” Ryan asked.
“Maybe she’s an impostor,” said Andrea.
“An impostor? What’s that?” I asked. “Somebody who imposts?”
“No, silly. An impostor is somebody who pretends to be somebody else,” Andrea explained. “She might be a fake teacher.”
“Maybe Miss Daisy is really a jewel thief or a bank robber,” I guessed. “Maybe she snuck into the school and is hiding so the police won’t catch her.”
“I think you’re the one who’s crazy.” Andrea giggled, choking on her milk.
But what if Miss Daisy was a bank robber? Or she could be a horse thief or a cattle rustler or somebody who parks where there is a yellow line on the curb. My head was starting to fill with all kinds of awful things Miss Daisy could be.
“Maybe Miss Daisy kidnapped our real teacher and is holding her for ransom!” I suggested.
“Wow, you think so?” Emily asked, looking all scared.
“What’s ransom?” asked Ryan.
“My mom tells me I’m handsome,” Michael Robinson claimed.
“Not handsome! Ransom!” said Andrea. “I don’t know what it is, but whenever somebody is kidnapped, they get held for it.”
“In cartoons people who get kidnapped are always tied up to railroad tracks,” I reminded everybody. “Maybe our real teacher is tied up to some railroad tracks right now!”
“We’ve got to save her!” said Emily, and she went running out of the lunchroom.
“Wait a minute,” said Michael Robinson. “That doesn’t make sense. If Miss Daisy can’t even read or do arithmetic, how is she going to be able to kidnap a teacher and tie her to railroad tracks?”
“She doesn’t look like a kidnapper to me,” Ryan said.
“We should tell Principal Klutz,” said Andrea. “He’ll know what to do.”
“No!” I shouted. “Don’t you see how good we have it? If we tell Principal Klutz how dumb Miss Daisy is, he will fire her and replace her with a real teacher. A real teacher who knows reading and writing and arithmetic. We’ll have to learn all that stuff. You don’t want that, do you?”
“No way!” said Michael Robinson.
“I don’t care if she is an impostor or a bank robber or a kidnapper,” I said. “I like her. I say we keep her.”
“Me too,” Michael Robinson agreed. “I think she’s cool.”
“Okay, let’s not tell anybody,” I said. “It will be our little secret.”
We all agreed. Our lips would be sealed. But not sealed with glue or anything. That would be gross.

Llama Llama
having fun.
Blocks and puzzles
in the sun.
Time to shop!
It's Saturday!
Llama Llama
wants to play.
First the shopping,
then a treat.
Mama Llama
gets the seat.
Llama dreaming
in the car--
Wake up! Wake up!
Here we are!
Great big building,
great big signs.
Lots of aisles,
lots of lines.
Llama Llama
out with Mama
shopping at the Shop-O-Rama.
Yucky music,
great big feet.
Ladies smelling way too sweet.
Look at knees and stand in line.
Llama Llama starts to whine.
Clearance sales
and discount buys.
What is little Llama's size?
Try it on and take it off.
Pull and wiggle,
itch and cough.
Shirts and jackets,
pants and shoes.
Does this sweater
come in blue?
Brand-new shoes and underwear?
Llama Llama does not care.
Cheezee Puffs and Oatie Crunch.
What would Llama like for lunch?
Llama Llama doesn't know.
Llama Llama wants to go.
Loaf of bread
and Cream of Wheat.
Llama Llama wants his treat.
It's no fun at Shop-O-Rama.
Llama Llama
Mad at Mama.
Flying pasta,
spraying juice,
Paper towels rolling loose.
Coffee, bread, and chips galore.
Shoes and sweaters hit the floor.
CRASH the carts and SMASH the signs.
No more waiting! No more lines!
Out go socks and Cheezee Puffs...
Llama Llama,
that's enough!
Please stop fussing, little Llama.
No more of this Llama drama.
I think shopping's boring,too--
but at least I'm here with you.
Let's see if we can make this fun
and get the Llama shopping done.
Let's be a team at Shop-O-Rama--
Llama Llama shops with Mama.
Sweep up pasta,
mop up juice.
Wrap up towels rolling loose.
Pick up puffs and find the socks.
Put the shoes back in the box.
Push the cart with Mama Llama,
almost done at Shop-O-Rama.
Time to leave.
The shopping's done.
No more waiting.
Time for fun.
Out to parking, not too far.
Where did Mama leave the car?
Snap the buckle,
grab the box.
Put on brand-new
shoes and socks.
Say good-bye to Shop-O-Rama.
Llama Llama
loves his Mama.

This is how the story begins.
On a dark dark hill
there was a dark dark town.
In the dark dark town
there was a dark dark street.
In the dark dark street
there was a dark dark house.
In the dark dark house
there was a dark dark staircase.
Down the dark dark staircase
there was a dark dark cellar.
And in the dark dark cellar...
...some skeletons lived.
There was abig skeleton,
a little skeleton and a dog skeleton.
One night the big skeleton sat up in bed.
He scratched his skull.
"What shall we do tonight?" he said.
"Let's take the dog for a walk,"
said the little skeleton.
"And frighten somebody!"
"Good idea!" the big skeleton said.
So the big skeleton, the little skeleton and the dog skeleton left the dark dark cellar,
climbed the dark dark staircase and stepped out into the dark dark street.
They walked past the houses and the shops.
They walked past the zoo and the police station.
They went into the park.
The big skeleton scratched his skull.
"what shall we do now?" he said.
"Let's play on the swings," said the little skeleton.
"And throw a stick for the dog- and frighten somebody!"
"Good idea!" the big skeleton said.
So the big skeleton, the little skeleton and the dog skeleton walked round the dark dark pond,
past the dark dark tennis courts and up to the dark dark swings.
The big skeleton and the little skeleton played on the swings.
They threw a stick for the dog.
Suddenly something happened.
The dog skeleton chased the stick, tripped over a park bench,
bumped into a tree--
and ended as a little pile of bones.
"Look at that!" the big skeleton said.
"He's all come to pieces. What shall we do now?"
"Let's put him together again," the little skeleton said.
So the big skeleton and the little skeleton put the dog skeleton together again.
They sang a song while they did it.
THE TOE BONE'S CONNECTED TO THE -- FOOT BONE!
THE FOOT BONE'S CONNECTED TO THE -- LEG BONES!
THE LEG BONE'S CONNECTED TO THE -- HIP BONE!
THE HIP BONE'S CONNECTED TO THE -- BACK BONE!
Then they got mixed up.
"Is that a toe bone?" the little skeleton said.
"Where does this one go?" said the big skeleton.
When they had finished, the big skeleton said, "That dog looked a bit funny to me."
"So he does," said the little skeleton.
"We've got his tail on the wron gend--and his head!"
"Foow!" said the dog skeleton.
At last the dog was properly put back together again.
The big skeleton and the little skeleton sang another song.
THESE BONES, THESE BONES CAN BARK AGAIN!
CAN RUN AROUND IN THE PARK AGAIN!
CAN FRIGHTEN PEOPLE IN THE DARK AGAIN!
The big skeleton scratched his skull.
"That reminds me," he said.
"We forgot to frighted somebody!"
"Let's do it on the way home, then," said the little skeleton.
"Good idea!" the big skeleton said.
So the big skeleton, the little skeleton and the dog skeleton left the dark dark swings, went out into the dark dark town--
and tried to frighten somebody.
The trouble was, there wasn't anybody.
Everybody was in bed.
Even the policemen in the police station were in bed.
Even the animals in the zoo!
Of course, the skeleton animals were awake.
"Let's have a ride on the elephant skeleton," the little skeleton said.
"Let's have a word with the parrot skeleton."
The big skeleton scratched his skull.
"Let's ... keep out of the way of the crocodile skeleton," he said.
When they were back in the street,
and when they still could not find anybody to frighten,
the big skeleton said, "What shall we do now?"
The little skeleton scratched his skull.
"Let's frighten each other!" he said.
"That's better than nothing!"
"Good idea!" the big skeleton said.
So after that the big skeleton frightened the little skeleton,
the little skeleton frightened the big skeleton,
the big skeleton and the little skeleton frightened the dog skeleton,
and the dog skeleton froghtened them.
They hid round corners and frightened each other.
They climbed up lamp posts and frightened each other.
They jumped out of dustbins and frightened each other --
all the way home.
And that is how the story ends.
On a dark dark hill
there was a dark dark town.
In the dark dark town
there was a dark dark street.
In the dark dark street
there was a dark dark house.
In the dark dark house
there was a dark dark staircase.
Down the dark dark staircase
there was a dark dark cellar.
In the dark dark cellar
some skeletons lived.
They still do.

THE END

Chapter 3 How to Spell Read

Before school started, my mother told me that second grade was the most interesting grade because this was the year that I would be able to read chapter books all by myself. I already knew how to read, even though I had tried very hard not to learn.
You see, my friend Billy told me that you really don’t have to know how to read. Billy says that when you grow up and make lots of money, you can pay people to read for you. That sounded good to me.
“I hate reading,” I announced when Miss Daisy passed out some spelling worksheets.
“Me too!” agreed Miss Daisy.
“You do?” we all asked.
“Yup,” she said. “I can’t read a word.”
“You can’t?”
“Nope.”
“You can’t even spell the word read ?” Michael Robinson asked.
“I don’t have a clue,” she said, scratching her head the same way she did when she told us she didn’t know how to multiply four times four.
“Just sound it out, Miss Daisy!” Andrea suggested.
“ R - e - e - d ?” Miss Daisy said.
“No!” we all shouted.
“I give up,” she said. “Do any of you know how to spell the word read ?”
“ R - e - a - d ,” we all chanted.
“Wow! I didn’t know that!” marveled Miss Daisy. “You have taught me a lot today.”
“How did you get to teach second grade if you don’t even know how to spell read ?” asked Ryan.
“Well, I figured that second graders don’t know how to spell very well, so it wouldn’t matter whether or not I could spell.”
“I know how to spell lots of hard words,” Andrea Young announced.
“Me too,” everybody else said.
“Really?” Miss Daisy said. “Like what?”
Everybody started shouting out words and how to spell them, but Miss Daisy stopped us and made us take turns. She had each of us go up to the chalkboard and write three words we knew.
I wrote tonight, writing, and McDonald’s.
By the time we were done, the whole chalkboard was filled with words. There wasn’t even any room left for more.
“Wow!” Miss Daisy said. “You kids have taught me so much this morning. I’m really glad I decided to become a teacher.”

Harry was a white dog with black spots
who liked everything,
excpet...having a bath.
So one day when he heard the water
running in the tub,
he took the scrubbing brush...
and buried it in the back garden.
Then he ran away from home.
He played where they were mending the street and got very dirty.
He played by the railway and got even dirtier.
He played tag with other dogs and became dirtier still.
He slid down a coal chute and got the dirtiest of all.
In fact, he changed
from a white dog with black spots
to a black dog with white spots.
Although there were many other things to do,
Harry began to wonder if his family thought
that he had really run away.
He felt tired and hungry, too,
so without stopping on the way
he ran back home.
When Harry got to his house,
he crawled through the fence
and sat looking at the back door.
One of the family looked out and said,
"There's a strange dog in the back garden...
by the way, has anyone seen Harry?"
When Harry heard this, he tried very hard
to show them he was Harry. He started to do
all his old, clever tricks.
He flip-flopped and he flop-flipped.
He rolled over and played dead.
He danced and he sang.
He did these tricks over and over again
but everyone shook their heads and said,
"Oh, no, it couldn't be Harry."
Harry gave up
and walked away towards the gate,
but suddenly he stopped.
He ran to a corner of the garden
and started to dig furiously.
Soon he jumped away from the hole
barking short, happy barks.
He'd found the scrubbing brush!
And carrying it in his mouth,
he ran into the house.
Up the stairs he dashed,
with the family
following close behind.
He jumped into the bathtub abd sat up begging,
with the scrubbing brush in his mouth,
a trick he certainly had never done before.
"This little doggie wants a bath!"
cried the little girl, and her father said,
"Why don't you and your brother give him one?"
Harry's bath was the soapiest one he'd ever had.
It worked like magic. As soon as the children
started to scrub, they began shouting,
"Mummy! Daddy! Look! Look! Come quickly!"
"It's Harry! It's Harry!" they cried.
Harry wagged his tail and was very, very happy.
His family combed and brushed him lovingly, and
he became once again a white dog with black spots.
It was wonderful to be home.
After dinner, Harry fell asleep
in his favorite place, happily dreaming
of how much fun it had been getting dirty.
He slept so soundly,
he didn't even feel the scrubbing brush
he'd hidden under his pillow.

I know all about principals. My friend Billy from around the corner, who was in second grade last year, told me that the principal is like the king of the school. He runs everything.
Billy says that if you break the rules, you have to go to the principal’s office, which is in a dungeon down in the basement. Kids in the dungeon get locked up and are forced to listen to their parents’ old CDs for hours. It must be horrible.
Miss Daisy told us to be on our best behavior so Principal Klutz would see how mature we were. Finally he walked into our room.
“Welcome to the second grade,” he said cheerfully. “I’m sure we are all going to have a wonderful year together.”
Principal Klutz said a lot of stuff about the rules of the school. We’re not allowed to run in the halls, and we’re not allowed to chew gum. Stuff like that.
But I wasn’t listening very closely because I kept staring at his head. He had no hair at all! I mean none! His head looked like a giant egg.
When Principal Klutz was all done telling us the rules of the school, he asked if anybody had any questions about what he had said.
“Did all your hair fall out of your head,” I asked, “or did you cut it off?” Everybody laughed, even though I didn’t say anything funny. Miss Daisy looked at me with a mean face.
“Actually, it was both,” Principal Klutz replied with a chuckle. “Almost all of my hair fell out on its own, so I decided to shave the rest of it off.”
“That’s the saddest story I ever heard!” said this girl named Emily, and she burst into tears.
“Don’t feel bad,” Principal Klutz said. “It could have been a lot worse.”
“How?” sniffled Emily.
“Well, at least my brain didn’t fall out of my head!”
We all laughed, even Emily. Principal Klutz was a pretty funny guy, for a principal.
“Any other questions?”
“Do you have a dungeon down in the basement where you put the bad kids?” I asked.
“Actually, the dungeon is on the third floor,” Principal Klutz replied.
Nobody laughed this time. He quickly told us that he was just making a joke and that he didn’t even have a dungeon at all.
Principal Klutz must have felt bad that we didn’t think his joke was funny, because he invited us all up to the front of the room to touch his bald head.
We did, and that made everybody feel a lot better.
Principal Klutz seemed nice, but a lot of people seem nice when you first meet them. Then later you find out that they are evil villains who plan to take over the world.
I bet he was lying about the dungeon.

Chapter 2 Dumb miss Daisy and Principal Klutz

Miss Daisy said it was time for us to clear off our desks and see how much we knew about arithmetic.
Ugh!
“If I gave you fifty-eight apples and Principal Klutz took twenty-eight of them away,” Miss Daisy asked, “how many apples would you have left? A.J.?”
“Who cares how many apples you would have left?” I said. “I hate apples. If you ask me, you and Principal Klutz can take all the apples away and it wouldn’t bother me one bit.”
“You would have thirty apples,” said that girl Andrea Young in the front of the class. She had a big smile on her face, like she had just opened all her birthday presents. Andrea Young thinks she’s so smart.
“I hate arithmetic,” I announced.
“You know what?” Miss Daisy said. “I hate arithmetic too!”
“You do?” we all said.
“Sure! I don’t even know what you get if you multiply four times four.”
“You don’t?”
“I have no idea,” Miss Daisy said, scratching her head and wrinkling up her forehead like she was trying to figure it out. “Maybe one of you kids can explain it to me?”
Boy, Miss Daisy was really dumb! Even I know what you get when you multiply four times four. But that smarty-pants-I-know-everything-girl Andrea Young beat me to it and got called on first.
“If you put four crayons in a row,” she told Miss Daisy as she put a bunch of crayons on the top of her desk, “and you make four rows of four crayons, you’ll have sixteen crayons. See?” Then she counted the crayons from one to sixteen.
Miss Daisy looked at the crayons on Andrea’s desk. She had a puzzled look on her face.
“I’m not sure I understand,” she said. “Can somebody else explain it to me?”
Michael Robinson, this kid wearing a red T-shirt with a dirt bike on it, explained four times four again, using pencils. He had sixteen pencils on his desk, in four rows of four pencils. Miss Daisy still had a look on her face like she didn’t understand.
“What would happen if you subtracted half of the pencils?” she asked.
Michael took away two of the rows of pencils and put them in his pencil box.
“Then you would have eight pencils!” we all said.
Andrea Young added, “Half of sixteen is eight.”
Miss Daisy wrinkled up her forehead until it was almost like an accordion. She still didn’t get it!
She started counting the pencils on Michael’s desk out loud and using her fingers. She got it all wrong. We gathered around Michael’s desk and tried to explain to Miss Daisy how to add, subtract, multiply, and divide numbers using the pencils.
Nothing worked. Miss Daisy had to be the dumbest teacher in the history of the world! No matter how many times we tried to explain, she kept shaking her head.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It will take me a while to understand arithmetic. Maybe you can explain it to me more tomorrow. For now we have to clean off our desks because Principal Klutz is going to come in and talk to us.”

Chapter 1 I Hate School

“My name is A.J. I like football and video games, and I hate school.” Our teacher, Miss Daisy, was taking attendance. It was the first day of second grade. Miss Daisy told everyone in the class to stand up, say our name, and say something about ourself.
All the kids laughed when I said I hated school. But there was nothing funny about it. I have learned a lot in my eight years. One thing I learned is that there is no reason why kids should have to go to school.
If you ask me, kids can learn all we need to learn by watching TV. You can learn important information like which breakfast cereal tastes best and what toys you should buy and which shampoo leaves your hair the shiniest. This is stuff that we’ll need to know when we grow up.
School is just this dumb thing that grown-ups thought up so they wouldn’t have to pay for baby-sitters. When I grow up and have children of my own, I won’t make them go to school. They can just ride their bikes and play football and video games all day. They’ll be happy, and they’ll think I’m the greatest father in the world.
But for now, I wanted to let my new teacher, Miss Daisy, know from the very start how I felt about school.
“You know what, A.J.?” Miss Daisy said, “I hate school too.”
“You do?”
We all stared at Miss Daisy. I thought teachers loved school. If they didn’t love school, why did they become teachers? Why would they ever want to go to a school as a grown-up? I know that when I’m a grown-up, I’m not going to go any- where near a school.
“Sure I hate school,” Miss Daisy continued. “If I didn’t have to be here teaching you, I could be home sitting on my comfortable couch, watching TV and eating bonbons.”
“Wow!” we all said.
“What’s a bonbon?” asked Ryan, a kid with black sneakers who was sitting next to me.
“Bonbons are these wonderful chocolate treats,” Miss Daisy told us. “They’re about the size of a large acorn, and you can pop the whole thing right in your mouth so you don’t need a napkin. I could eat a whole box of bonbons in one sitting.”
“They sound delicious!” said Andrea Young, a girl with curly brown hair. She was sitting up real straight in the front of the class with her hands folded like they were attached to each other.
Miss Daisy seemed like a pretty cool lady, for a teacher. Anybody who hated school and liked to sit around watching TV and eating chocolate treats was okay by me.
Me and Miss Daisy had a lot in common. Maybe going to school wouldn’t be so terrible after all.

I found a penny. I thought it would give me luck.
"Was it heads or tails?" asked Tiger.
"If it was heads, it's lucky. If it was tails, it's unlucky."
I couldn't remember.
"I guess we will have to wait and see," I said.
Just then we heard the ice cream truck.
I wanted a double critterberry cone.
I couldn't wait to eat it.
But I dropped the ice cream.
"Get rid of that penny,"said Timothy. "It's unlucky!"
I threw the penny away as far as I could.
I felt better, and soon it was time to go home.
But I got a flat tire.
"I'm still unlucky," I said.
I had to push my bike home.
Then I tripped and fell down.
I was having a very unlucy day.
Mom hugged me and said, "Sometimes you need just a little luck."
That made me feel better.
That night I took a long bath.
Then I finished my project due for school the next day.
That made me feel better, too.
But in the morning, I was unlucky again.
I droped my project on the school steps.
Somebody even laughed, so I made sure I didn&`&t cry.
My teacher helped me fix it.
That made me feel better.
On Tuesday, I left my lunch on the school bus.
Gator lent me some lunch money.
The cafeteria was serving creamed chicken with peas on toast.
I hate that, but I was hungry.
I ate it anyway.
Wednesday was worse.
A delivery truck ran over my basketball in the driveway.
I know Mom told me to put it away, but I forgot.
Thursday I had a little bitty fever and had to stay home.
Which is fine usually, but Thursday was a special class party.
How unlucky!
My fever was gone on Friday,
but the TV stattion canceled my favorite show, Bonzo Bob and His Wacky Critters.
I needed just a little luck.
I wasn't even excited about the weekend.
Grandpa came by on Saturday.
We were going to the State Fair, just Grandpa and unlucky me.
I always wanted to ride the Ripping Rocket.
Grandpa said, "Let's do it!"
The ride critter strapped us in.
I just knew I would be unlucky...
..and something would go wrong.
But it didn't. It was great!
Grandpa said, "What do you think of your luck now?"
I guess sometimes you need just a little luck.

If you give a mouse a cookie, he&`&s going to ask for a glass of milk.
When you give him the milk, he&`&ll probably ask you for a straw.
When he&`&s finished, he&`&ll ask for a napkin.
Then he&`&ll want to look in a mirror to make sure he doesn&`&t have a milk mustache.
When he looks into the mirror, he might notice his hair needs a trim.
So he&`&ll probably ask for a pair of nail scissors.
When he&`&s finished giving himself a trim, he&`&ll want a broom to sweep up.
He&`&ll start sweeping.
He might get carried away and sweep every room in the house.
He may even end up washing the floors as well!
When he&`&s done, he&`&ll probably want to take a nap.
You&`&ll have to fix up a little box for him with a blanket and a pillow.
He&`&ll crawl in, make himself comfortable and fluff the pillow a few times.
He&`&ll probably ask you to read him a story.
So you&`&ll read to him from one of your books, and he&`&ll ask to see the pictures.
When he looks at the pictures, he&`&ll get so excited he&`&ll want to draw one of his own.
He&`&ll ask for paper and crayons.
He&`&ll draw a picture.
When the picture is finished, he&`&ll want to sign his name with a pen.
Then he&`&ll want to hang his picture on your refrigerator.
Which means he&`&ll need scotch tape.
He&`&ll hang up his drawing and stand back to look at it.
Looking at the refrigerator will remind him that he&`&s thirsty.
So...he&`&ll ask for a glass of milk.
And chances are if he asks for a glass of milk, he&`&s going to want a cookie to go with it.