Junie B., First Grader Jingle Bells, Batman Smells! (P.S. So Does May.) Read online

  Look for all of these great books by Barbara Park

  Picture books

  Psssst! It's Me … the Bogeyman

  The Junie B. Jones series

  #1 Junie B. Jones and the Stupid Smelly Bus

  #2 Junie B. Jones and a Little Monkey Business

  #3 Junie B. Jones and Her Big Fat Mouth

  #4 Junie B. Jones and Some Sneaky Peeky Spying

  #5 Junie B. Jones and the Yucky Blucky Fruitcake

  #6 Junie B. Jones and That Meanie Jim's Birthday

  #7 Junie B. Jones Loves Handsome Warren

  #8 unie B. Jones Has a Monster Under Her Bed

  #9 Junie B. Jones Is Not a Crook

  #10 Junie B. Jones Is a Party Animal

  #11 Junie B. Jones Is a Beauty Shop Guy

  #12 Junie B. Jones Smells Something Fishy

  #13 Junie B. Jones Is (almost) a Flower Girl

  #14 Junie B. Jones and the Mushy Gushy Valentime

  #15 Junie B. Jones Has a Peep in Her Pocket

  #16 Junie B. Jones Is Captain Field Day

  #17 Junie B. Jones Is a Graduation Girl

  #18 Junie B., First Grader (at last!)

  #19 Junie B., First Grader: Boss of Lunch

  #20 Junie B., First Grader: Toothless Wonder

  #21 Junie B., First Grader: Cheater Pants

  #22 Junie B., First Grader: One-Man Band

  #23 Junie B., First Grader: Shipwrecked

  #24 Junie B., First Grader: BOO … and I MEAN It!

  #25 Junie B., First Grader: Jingle Bells, Batman Smells! (P.S. So Does May.)

  Top-Secret Personal Beeswax: A Journal by Junie B. (and me!)

  To my dear Amy Berkower, whose patience and support are so perfectly balanced by your utter good sense. How lucky I am to have you as my agent … and how grateful I am to have you as my friend.

  Contents

  1. Peace and Goodwill

  2. Jingle Hats

  3. Laughing All the Way

  4. Going Last

  5. Elf Ladies

  6. Giving

  7. Doing the Math

  8. Being Shellfish

  9. The Bestest Gifts

  10. Pressure

  11. May's Big Surprise

  1

  Peace and Goodwill

  Just then, I quick stopped writing. 'Cause I couldn't believe my eyeballs!

  That snoopy-head May was stretching her neck across the aisle! And she was reading my journal page!

  I slammed my book shut speedy fast.

  “This is none of your beeswax, sister!” I said.

  But May was already jumping out of her chair.

  “Mr. Scary! Mr. Scary!” she hollered real loud. “Junie Jones wrote a bad name about me in her journal! She wrote that I am a bladdermouth! And bladder is not a nice word!”

  I rolled my eyes at that dumb comment.

  “It's not bladdermouth. It's blabber-mouth, May,” I said. “Blabbermouth is spelled with b's … not d's.”

  Mr. Scary stood up at his desk.

  “Girls … please,” he said.

  Then he was going to growl at us, probably. But the phone rang from the office. And he had to answer it.

  I crossed my arms at May. “B is the same letter that you always forget when you say my name, remember? And so maybe I should use B in a sentence for you.”

  I leaned close to her eardrum.

  “Dear Blabbermouth May: My name is Junie B. Jones. How come you can't remember B's? Huh, May? Huh? Are you a block-head or something?”

  May's face got very puffery.

  Then, all of a sudden, she grabbed my journal right off my desk. And she started to rip out the page!

  I tried to grab it back from her. But May would not let go of that thing! And so, me and her got into a tuggle.

  I pulled real hard.

  Then May pulled harder.

  Then … OOOMPHH!

  I pulled and pulled with all of my might! And me and my journal went flying back to my seat!

  I hugged my book all safe and sound. But something did not feel right.

  I looked down.

  During the tuggle, May's sweater sleeve accidentally got hooked on my thumb.

  And so, oh no!

  Her sleeve got stretched across the aisle with me!

  I quick untangled it from my thumb. But the sleeve did not bounce back.

  Instead, it just stayed on my lap real longish and droopish.

  I did a gulp at that thing.

  Then—very slow—I looked over at May.

  And kaboom!

  Her whole stack blew off!

  She exploded out of her seat! And she hollered at the top of her lungs.

  “MR. SCARY! MR. SCARY! JUNIE JONES WRECKED MY SWEATER SLEEVE! JUNIE JONES WRECKED MY SWEATER SLEEVE!”

  Mr. Scary hung up the phone.

  I quick wadded up May's sleeve. And I tried to give it back to her. But she would not even take it. And so, the sweater sleeve unrolled itself to the floor.

  May's eyeballs popped out of her head.

  “AAAAA! AAAAA! IT'S ALL THE WAY TO THE FLOOR!” she yelled. “IT'S RUINED! IT'S RUINED! MY SWEATER IS RUINED!”

  I tapped my fingers very thinking.

  “Um … well, the whole sweater isn't ruined, actually. It's just that one sleeve, May,” I said kind of quiet. “If you grow one arm to the ground, it will fit like a glove, probably.”

  May opened her mouth to holler again. But Mr. Scary was already hurrying down our row.

  He did not say a word to us.

  Instead, he took May and me by our hands. And he rushed us into the hall.

  May's sweater sleeve dragged on the floor behind her.

  She picked it up real limp.

  “Look at this! Just look at it, Mr. Scary!” she grouched. “Junie Jones wrecked my sweater! Junie Jones wrecks everything!”

  I did a mad breath.

  “I do not wreck everything,” I said. “And anyway, this wasn't even my fault! You're the one who started it, May! You're the one who stoled my journal.”

  Mr. Scary looked down at me.

  “Stole,” he said. “The word is stole, Junie B. Not stoled.”

  I sucked in my cheeks. 'Cause now was not the time for grammar.

  “Fine. She stole my journal,” I said. “She just grabbed it right off my desk. And she tried to rip a page out.”

  May kept on arguing.

  “But I only took her journal because she wrote a bad name about me!” she said.

  I stamped my foot.

  “But May wouldn't even know about that name if she didn't snoop!” I said. “Snooping in someone's journal is an invasion of their piracy.”

  Mr. Scary did a little frown.

  “Privacy,” he said. “It's an invasion of privacy, Junie B. Not piracy.”

  I threw my head back. “For the love of Pete! Can't you just let it go? I'm trying to make a point here!” I said.

  Mr. Scary glared his eyes. He said for me to calm myself down, young lady.

  I jumped all the way in the air.

  “I AM CALM!” I hollered back.

  After that, I got marched speedy quick to the water fountain. And I had to drink some sips of water and settle myself.

  I drank and settled.

  Then I wiped off my mouth. And I rocked back and forth on my feet kind of nervous.

  “Sorry,” I said real quiet. “Sorry I got mad, Mr. Scary.”

  I looked up at him.

  “Sometimes grammar makes my head explode,” I said.

  Mr. Scary smiled a little bit.
>
  Then he took me back to May. And he talked to us in a calm voice.

  “I really don't understand your behavior lately, girls,” he said. “The holidays are the time of year when we try to spread peace and goodwill. But you two are treating each other worse and worse every day.”

  Me and May quick pointed at each other.

  “It's her fault!” we shouted together.

  Mr. Scary shook his head. “I don't care whose fault it is,” he said. “If you two have another fight today, there will be no Holiday Sing-Along for either one of you. Instead, you'll be parking yourselves in the principal's office for the afternoon.”

  My body did a shiver at those words.

  'Cause I've parked at Principal's before, that's why. And there's not a lot of singing that goes on down there.

  “So what's it going to be, girls?” said my teacher. “Do you want to shake hands and make up? Or do you want to spend the afternoon at the office?”

  My eyes glanced over at May.

  She was standing still as a statue. And her eyes were staring at the floor.

  I waited and waited for her to shake hands with me. But she did not look up.

  Finally, Mr. Scary tapped his annoyed foot at us.

  “Well?” he said again.

  I waited some more.

  But May still did not budge herself.

  That's how come I did a big, loud breath. And I picked up May's long sweater sleeve. And I gave it a shake.

  “There. Fine. I shaked with her,” I said.

  “Shook,” said Mr. Scary.

  “Whatever,” I said.

  Then I dropped the sleeve back on the floor. And I kicked it over to May with my foot.

  She did a gasp.

  Then she quick picked it up and swatted the dirt off on my pants.

  “Hey! Quit it!” I yelled.

  Mr. Scary snapped his loud fingers at us.

  May stopped swatting. “I was just getting the dust out,” she said.

  Mr. Scary filled his cheeks up with air. And he let it out real slow.

  Then he took us by our hands again. And we walked back to Room One.

  Peace and goodwill do not come easy.

  2

  Jingle Hats

  The rest of the morning, we did arithmetic.

  Arithmetic is the school word for adding and taking away. Only I couldn't even concentrate on my numbers that good. On account of May kept giving me mean looks. And flopping her sweater sleeve around.

  Pretty soon, there was a knock on the door.

  “COME IN, PLEASE!” said Room One.

  Mr. Scary taught us to say that. Only I don't actually know why. 'Cause people come in anyway.

  The door opened very slow.

  And ha!

  It was Mr. Toot, the music teacher!

  He was carrying a big brown box in his arms.

  It was dusty, I think. 'Cause when Mr. Toot plopped the box on the floor, Sheldon started to sneeze his head off.

  Sheldon is very allergic to dust particles. Also, he is allergic to hoagies … and dairy products … and nature.

  “AH … AH … AH … AHCHOO! AHCHOO! AHCHOO! AHCHOO!”

  Mr. Scary looked at him real panicked. Then he quick picked up a tissue box. And he rushed to Sheldon's desk.

  But Sheldon was already wiping his nose on his shirt sleeve.

  “Ha! I beat you again, Mr. Scary!” he said. “I beat you at that race every time I sneeze!”

  Mr. Scary closed his eyes.

  “I have told you before, Sheldon. We are not racing,” he said.

  Sheldon laughed.

  Then he threw his fist in the air. And he shouted, “SHELDON POTTS RULES!”

  Mr. Scary rolled his eyes. Then he moved the dusty box farther away from Sheldon's desk. And Mr. Toot lifted the lid.

  I stood up to look.

  And wowie wow wow!

  Guess what was in there?

  ELF CLOTHES! That's what!

  There were little green elf hats with jingle bells on their ends! Plus also, there were cute elf vests with belts!

  Mr. Toot held them up for us to see.

  “Boys and girls, our PTO made these costumes several years ago for our Holiday Sing-Alongs,” he said. “Aren't they great? Every single first grader is going to get to wear one today!”

  He started passing them out.

  My richie friend Lucille got hers first.

  She looked at it and made a face.

  “Okay … Number one: I don't wear this shade of green. And number two: I don't wear bell hats,” she said.

  Mr. Scary looked up at the ceiling.

  Then he took Lucille by her hand.

  And he walked her into the hall.

  And she came back wearing her bell hat.

  Pretty soon, all of the rest of Room One were wearing our bell hats, too.

  We shook our heads.

  The bells jangled very jingly.

  “Hey! This room sounds just like a jingle-bell sleigh!” I said.

  Mr. Toot did a chuckle.

  “You're right, Junie B. Every year, one lucky class gets to wear the jingle-bell hats. And this year—because Room One has been so well behaved in music class— I chose you!”

  All of the children clapped and cheered.

  Except for not Lucille.

  Instead, she threw her hands in the air and shouted, “What are the odds?”

  After that, she flopped her head on her desk. And she didn't come up again.

  Mr. Toot ignored her.

  “And that's not all my good news, either,” he said. “Because each year, the class with the bell hats goes onstage. And they lead the whole auditorium in singing ‘Jingle Bells'!”

  Room One jumped up from our seats.

  “‘Jingle Bells'! ‘Jingle Bells'! Yay! Yay! We're going to lead ‘Jingle Bells'!”

  Mr. Toot smiled.

  “Okay, everyone. Just to make sure that you know the words, we are going to have a short rehearsal!” he said.

  “REHEARSAL!” we shouted. “YAY! YAY! REHEARSAL!”

  Only too bad for us. 'Cause rehearsal was nothing to shout about.

  We sang that dumb song a jillion times, I bet.

  At first, it was kind of fun.

  Only then it got real boring.

  And so, that's how come I started singing funny different words.

  They were funny words about Batman and Robin.

  I sang them loud so my friends could hear.

  Jingle bells,

  Batman smells,

  Robin laid an egg.

  Batmobile

  Lost its wheel,

  And Joker got away.

  Herbert and Lennie laughed and laughed.

  May did a gasp.

  Then she sprang up like a spring. And she started to tattle.

  “Mr. Toot! Mr. Toot! Junie Jones is singing the wrong—”

  I quick yanked her skirt.

  “Psst! May! Are you crazy?” I whispered. “You and I can't fight anymore, remember that? If you tattletale on me, we'll be parking ourselves at Principal's.”

  May covered her mouth with her hands. And she sat down real fast.

  “Oops. Never mind,” she said to Mr. Toot.

  I wiped my worried forehead.

  “Whew. That was a close one,” I said. “I saved our gooses.”

  May leaned across the aisle.

  “You did not save our gooses, Junie Jones,” she said. “I saved our gooses. I'm the one who didn't tattle.”

  She pointed her finger at me.

  “But you better not sing those bad words at the Sing-Along,” she said. “I mean it, Junie Jones. If you sing those bad words onstage, I will tell on you, no matter what.”

  I did a big breath.

  “Robin laid an egg is not bad words, May,” I said. “An egg is nothing for a bird to be ashamed of.”

  “I don't care. It doesn't matter,” she said. “You already ruined enough today, Junie Jones. You ruined my
sweater. And you ruined my mood. But you're not going to ruin the Sing-Along, too.”

  She crossed her arms at me.

  “Even if I get in trouble myself, I will still tell on you,” she said. “You can count on that, Junie Jones.”

  After that, she leaned back in her chair. And she brushed her hands together real smuggy.

  I looked and looked at that girl.

  May is off her rocker, I believe.

  3

  Laughing All the Way

  We went to the Sing-Along after lunch.

  And ha!

  The auditorium looked like Santa's workshop! There were a jillion cute elves in that place!

  And wait till you hear this!

  Room One got to sit in the very first row!

  I sat in the seat right next to my friend Herbert.

  “This Sing-Along is going to be fun! Right, Herb? Right? This Sing-Along is going to be the time of our life!”

  Just then, May plopped down in the seat on the other side of me.

  I stopped smiling.

  “That seat is saved, May,” I told her. “I am saving it for someone else.”

  She looked all around.

  “For who?” she asked.

  “For someone not you. That's who,” I said.

  May did not budge herself.

  “You can't make me move, Junie Jones.

  This seat is public property,” she said.

  She scooted closer to me. “I'm going to stick to you like glue. It's the only way to make you behave yourself today.”

  I showed her my teeth and I made a grr noise.

  May did not look fearful.

  Finally, I moved closer to Herb. And I pretended she was invisible.

  Pretty soon, the Sing-Along got started.

  Mr. Toot said to turn to page one in our holiday songbook.

  The first song was “The Twelve Days of Christmas.”

  It is about a guy who gives his girlfriend a bunch of stupid presents.