1. Flinging

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1 Flinging Friday Dear first-grade journal, I'VE GOT BIG NEWS! I'VE GOT BIG NEWS! Last night Daddy told me a happy surprise. And it's called my family is going on an exciting vacation. And it is going to be the time of our life. I tell you!

I am trying to save my news for Show and Tell. But I don't think I can wait that long. That is how come I am going to ask my teacher to start that activity RIGHT EXACTLY NOW! Please stand by... I stopped writing and raised my hand. Mr. Scary was not looking at me. When teachers don't look, you have to stand up and shout. Or else how are they supposed to notice you? I stood up and shouted. "MR. S.! MR. S.! HOW LONG UNTIL WE HAVE SHOW-AND-TELL, DO YOU THINK?" Mr. Scary wrinkled his eyebrows at me. I am not supposed to call him Mr. S. I

believe. "Please sit down, Junie B.," he said. "It's still journal time. And journal time is quiet time." I nodded. "Yeah, I know. Only I'd actually like to wrap things up and get started with Show-and-Tell now." Mr. Scary sucked in his cheeks. "Sit down," he said again. "We will have Show-and-Tell shortly." I looked at the clock. "How many minutes is shortly?" I asked. "Is it one minute or eight minutes or eleven minutes? On account of if it's one minute, I can wait, probably. But eleven minutes would be out of the question." Mr. Scary walked back to my desk. And he sat me in my chair. I glanced up at him. "All I'm looking for is

a rough estimate," I said. Just then, my neighbor named May leaned across the aisle. And she did a giant SHH! in my face. I quick wiped my cheek. "EW!" I hollered. "EW! EW! EW!" 'Cause May got spittle on me, that's why! And spittle is the grown-up word for spitooey! I zoomed to the back of the room. And I climbed on the stool to reach the faucet. But

Mr. Scary beat me to it. He wet a paper towel and wiped my face. "Thank you," I said. "I needed that." Mr. Scary rolled his eyes. "You're being very rambunctious this morning, aren't you, Junie B. Jones?" he said. I scratched my head at that vocabulary. "Okay. You lost me on that one," I said. "Rambunctious," he repeated. "Rambunctious means—" May's voice interrupted. "BAD!" she called out. "'Bunctious means bad, Junie Jones! You're being bad this morning! Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad!" I turned to look at her. Her chair was spun around to face the back of the room. She was watching me like an audience.