A Late Night Chat with a Parakeet

A Late Night Chat with a Parakeet

My name is Hattie MacGruder. I am queen and absolute leader of my third grade class, and I have a parakeet! He's not one of those little silly, singing birds, but a real talking parakeet.

He talks like there's no tomorrow. He talks about the weather and my friends and the stupid seeds he has to eat. He would much rather eat jelly or chili cheese fries, and he loves Britney Spears. I am telling the truth.

There are others who are not telling the truth. Sybil and Sarah are liars and fibbers and tellers of untruth. They said that there never was a talking parakeet. They said the parakeet never even tasted a chili cheese fry. Mostly they said that parakeets don't talk. They said that I'd made it all up. That's why they are liars and fibbers and tellers of untruth. Because there really was what I said there was-there always is and . . .

. . . plus, I have absolute proof about the talking parakeet and all the other things that happen to me. The proof is in my diary. I'm going to let you read it exactly as I wrote it when the parakeet talked. That way you can read, first hand, the truth about this matter.

Special Note: I am only going to let you read the parts of my diary that are about the parakeet. You won't get to read the stuff about me getting grounded for sassing my teacher-which I didn't do. I swear somebody was playing ventriloquism tricks on me. Mom was so mad that she had to see my teacher. She wouldn't even let me buy the new Britney Spears CD I had been saving up for.