8. Halftime

8 Halftime Thursday Dear first-grade journal, Yesterday when I got home from school Daddy was waiting for me. And ha! He had bought me a juggle book at the bookstore! It was for children six and up. And six and up is my EXACT age.

Daddy and I read each page very careful. Then I did the whole entire book. Step by step. And what do you know? After I got done, I STILL COULDN'T JUGGLE! I am getting fed up with this stupid talent. Daddy said maybe I will learn it tomorrow. That man is just kidding himself. I am doomed. From, Junie B., First Grader I closed my journal. And I watched the clock for the rest of the afternoon. 'Cause I just wanted to get home and practice some more.

Daddy came home from work to help me again. He tried to help me juggle for hours and hours and hours. Only the most I could ever juggle was two dumb lemons. And two dumb lemons is not even juggling. Two dumb lemons is just throwing lemons in the air and catching them. I am not going to school tomorrow. And I mean it. Friday Dear first-grade journal, I am at school.

I do not know what went wrong. On account of this morning I told Mother I broke my leg. And then I limped and limped all over the house. And the next thing you know, I was on the bus. I am wearing the halftime costume Mother made for me. My hat is made out of an oatmeal box. I look like a nitwit. From, Junie B., First Grader I glanced my eyes all around the room. The children in Room One looked very cute. The kickball players were wearing

matching red-and-white shirts. All of their shirts said "WE ARE (ROOM) NUMBER ONE!" The cheerleaders matched each other, too. They had on red skirts and white sweaters. I looked at Sheldon. His daddy's band jacket was way too giant. And his band hat came over his ears. He looked like a nitwit, too. I put my head down on my desk very glum. My oatmeal-box hat fell on the floor. May started to laugh. "I hope that doesn't happen when you juggle today, Junie Jones," she said very meanish. She raised her eyebrows. "You are going to juggle, aren't you?"

I didn't answer that girl. Instead, I turned my head to the wall. And I closed my eyes. And I wished to turn invisible. I wished and wished with all my might. Then, finally, I opened my eyes again. And I turned back to May. And I stuck out my tongue at her. She stuck out hers right back at me. I did a sigh. Bad news. I wasn't invisible. At ten o'clock we went to the softball field. There were a million jillion parents there, I bet. Mother and Daddy were sitting on the first row of the bleachers. Grampa and Grandma Miller were sitting right next to them. They