My sincere thanks to my editor,
Michelle Knudsen, for her insight, patience,
and (best of all) her splendiferous sense of humor!
Junie B. and I couldn’t be in better hands.
Contents
1. Pet Day
2. The Secret About Twitter
3. The Boss
4. Ooey Gooey
5. Catching Friends
6. Sparkle
7. Sneaky Grandma Miller
8. A Surprise in the Freezer!
9. My Proudest Honor
1/Pet Day
My name is Junie B. Jones. The B stands for Beatrice. Except I don’t like Beatrice. I just like B and that’s all.
And guess what else?
B rhymes with P. And P stands for pet. And pet reminds me of what happened at my school today.
First, I was sitting at my table doing my work.
Then all of a sudden, my teacher stood up. And she clapped her loud hands together.
Her name is Mrs. She has another name, too. But I just like Mrs. and that’s all.
“Boys and girls! May I have your attention, please?” she said. “I’ve got some very exciting news. Next week is National Pet Week. And to help celebrate our wonderful pets, Room Nine is going to have Pet Day!”
I springed up from my chair real thrilled.
“HURRAY, PEOPLE! HURRAY! HURRAY! WE’RE GOING TO HAVE PET DAY!” I shouted.
My feet skipped all around the room. ’Cause they wanted to spread the news, that’s why!
“PET DAY! WE’RE GOING TO HAVE PET DAY, CHARLOTTE!” I hollered.
“PET DAY! WE’RE GOING TO HAVE PET DAY, JAMAL!”
“PET DAY! WE’RE GOING TO HAVE PET DAY, YOU MEANIE JIM I HATE!”
Just then, Mrs. grabbed me by my s’penders.
S’penders is the grownup word for the straps that hold your pants up.
I looked around very worried.
“Yeah, only here’s the problem,” I said. “If you pull off the s’penders—boom—the pants fall down.”
Mrs. did a frown at me.
“Sit…down…right…now,” she said real scary.
I did a gulp.
“Will do,” I said.
Then I hurried up back to my seat. And Mrs. went to the front of the room again.
She told us all the rules about Pet Day.
She said that Pet Day will be next Monday. And if you have a cat or a dog, you can bring in his picture. And Mrs. will hang it on the bulletin board.
“But please, boys and girls…no cats or dogs at school, okay?” she said. “The only animals you can bring to school are pets in cages.”
I springed up again.
“Whew! That was a close one!” I said. “’Cause I have a dog named Tickle! And at first, I thought I could only bring in his picture. But now I will bring him in a dog cage!”
Mrs. shook her head.
“No, Junie B. I’m afraid you didn’t understand. No dogs or cats will be allowed at school at all. Not even if you bring them in cages. I’m going to decorate a special bulletin board for all the dog and cat pictures.”
I hanged my head real disappointed.
“Shoot,” I said.
’Cause a dog picture isn’t even fun, that’s why.
Just then, my bestest friend named Grace waved her hand in the air.
“Can I bring my goldfish, Slicky?” she asked. “Is a fishbowl the same thing as a cage?”
Mrs. smiled.
“Yes, Grace. A goldfish will be just fine.”
After that, my other bestest friend named Lucille raised her hand, too.
“Teacher! Guess what I’m going to bring? I’m going to bring a picture of my new pony! And also I am going to wear my expensive new riding outfit! That way, everyone will see how cute I look when I ride!”
Mrs. stared at Lucille a real long time.
“What a treat that will be,” she said finally.
Lucille poked me with her finger.
“I can’t wait for Pet Day! Can you, Junie B.? Just wait till you see how cute I look in my riding boots!” she said.
I didn’t say anything back.
She poked me again.
“Pet Day is going to be fun! Don’t you think? Huh, Junie B.? Don’t you think Pet Day will be fun? Don’t you? Don’t you?”
Just then, I leaned real close to her face.
“Do not poke me one more time, and I mean it,” I grouched. “What is so fun about bringing a dog picture? Huh, Lucille? What is so fun about that? Huh? Huh? Huh?”
After that, I put my head on the table.
And I covered up with my arms.
And I didn’t come out till the end of school.
2/The Secret About Twitter
Me and that Grace rode the bus home together.
I did not speak to that girl.
’Cause she kept on being happy about Slicky. And so what kind of crummy attitude is that?
I walked in my house real glum.
Grandma Helen Miller was babysitting my baby brother named Ollie.
“Uh-oh. It looks like someone had a bad day at school,” she said.
I raised my hand very weakish.
“Me, Grandma. It was me. I am the one who had the bad day.”
After that, I gave her a paper from my teacher. It was the rules about Pet Day.
Grandma Miller put Ollie in his swing.
Then me and her sat on the couch. And I waited while she read the paper.
“Oh dear,” she said. “You can’t take Tickle, can you?”
I shook my head real gloomy.
“Not even in a cage,” I said.
I did a sad sigh. “Where’s the justice here, Helen?” I asked.
Grandma smiled very understanding.
Then she gave me a hug.
And she said don’t call her Helen.
“I don’t know what to tell you, sweetie,” she said. “Unless you get another pet before Pet Day, I guess you’re just going to have to accept this.”
My eyes started to cry a teeny bit.
“But Mother and Daddy won’t buy me another pet, Grandma. ’Cause I already asked for a bunny and a goat and a bat and a rat. But they keep on saying no, no, no, no.”
Grandma read the rules again.
“Wait a second here,” she said. “Why didn’t I see this before? It says you can bring a bird.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Yeah? So?”
“So you can take my canary!” she said. “I’ll let you take Twitter!”
I looked and looked at that woman.
Then I patted her hand very nice. And I whispered a secret in her ear.
“Yeah, only here’s the problem. I hate that dumb bird,” I said.
Grandma Miller looked surprised.
“You hate him? You hate Twitter?” she asked.
I showed her my finger.
“He pecked me, Grandma. He pecked my finger, remember that? And I didn’t even do anything to that guy.”
Grandma Miller made squinty eyes at me.
“You put a potato on his head,” she said. “I would have pecked you, too.”
I smiled kind of nervous.
“It was a hat,” I said real soft.
After that, me and Grandma Miller sat there kind of stiffish. And we didn’t talk for lots of minutes.
Finally, I tapped on her.
“Do you have any other pets at your house?” I asked. “Any pets I’m not aware of?”
Grandma Miller laughed a little bit.
“Not unless we catch that crazy old raccoon that keeps breaking into our garbage can every night,” she said.
Then she laughed s
ome more.
And guess what?
I laughed, too!
’Cause that woman is a genius, I tell you!
3/The Boss
On Saturday, I got out of bed very thrilled.
Then I runned to the garage.
And I grabbed my daddy’s fishing net.
And I zoomed right into the kitchen.
Mother was eating cereal.
“Mother! Mother! Guess why I have this fishing net! Guess, Mother! Guess! Guess!”
I couldn’t wait for her to guess.
“’CAUSE TODAY’S THE DAY I’M CATCHING THAT CRAZY OLD RACCOON!” I shouted.
Mother closed her eyes.
“No, Junie B. No. We already talked about this, remember? We discussed the raccoon at dinner last night.”
I smiled very happy.
“I already know that! I already know we discussed the raccoon!”
Mother looked confused.
“But Daddy and I said no, Junie B.,” she said. “We said you could not catch a raccoon. Raccoons have sharp claws and teeth, remember?”
“Yes! Of course I remember! That’s how come I got this net, Mother! See how long the handle is? Now I will be safe from him!”
Mother spelled the word no.
“N-o…no,” she said.
I stamped my foot.
“Y-e-s…yes,” I said back. “I have to, Mother. I have to catch a raccoon for Pet Day. Grandma Miller even said I could. And she is the boss of you.”
Just then, a miracle happened.
And it is called my Grandma Helen Miller walked right in my back door!
Mother looked up.
“Oh look. It’s the boss of me,” she said kind of grouchy.
I runned at my grandma very happy.
“Grandma Miller! Grandma Miller! I am so glad to see you! ’Cause Mother said I can’t catch a raccoon! And so now you have to make her!”
I stood back to give her room.
“Okay. Go,” I said.
Then I waited and waited. But Grandma didn’t do anything.
“Okay! Go!” I said louder.
Only just then, I saw something that made me even happier!
And it’s called my grandma was wearing her fishing hat!
My eyes popped out at that thing.
“Grandma! Hey, Grandma! You’re wearing your fishing hat! And so that must mean you’re going to the lake today!”
I quick ran to the front door.
“Is Grampa Miller going to the lake with you? Is he out there in the truck?”
I looked outside.
“HEY! HE IS, GRANDMA! HE IS OUT THERE IN THE TRUCK!”
I opened the door.
“GRAMPA MILLER! HEY, GRAMPA FRANK MILLER! GOOD NEWS! I CAN COME TO THE LAKE WITH YOU, I BELIEVE! ’CAUSE THERE’S LOTS OF RACCOONS TO CATCH UP THERE! EVEN MORE THAN AT YOUR HOUSE, PROBABLY!”
I zoomed back to the kitchen.
“Here, Grandma! Hold my raccoon net! I will put on my clothes and be back in a jiffy.”
Jiffy is the nickname for speedy quick.
Grandma Miller grabbed me by my p.j.’s.
“No, honey. Wait,” she said. “I’m afraid you can’t come with us today. We’re meeting some friends, and we’re already late. We just stopped by to borrow your daddy’s ice chest.”
Just then, I felt very crumbling inside.
“Yeah, only I have to come, Grandma. I have to,” I said. “Or else how will I catch a raccoon today?”
Grandma Miller bended down next to me.
“Yes, well, you see…that’s another thing, sweetie,” she said. “About the raccoon…I was just kidding when I said that, Junie B. I never dreamed you would take me seriously.”
Just then, my nose started to sniffle.
“Yeah, well, you dreamed wrong, Helen,” I said.
Grandma Miller hugged me real tight.
“Oh, come on now. Don’t cry,” she said. “There are lots of other animals you can catch for Pet Day. Animals that are much nicer than raccoons.”
I shook my head real fast.
“No, there are not, either, Grandma Miller. You are just saying that to trick me,” I said.
Then I stood there and stood there a real long time.
’Cause what if she wasn’t tricking? What if there really was lots of other animals?
Finally, I did a big breath. “Okay. Tell me the other animals. But this better be good.”
Grandma Miller did a smile.
“Wait right here,” she said.
Then she ran out to her truck and back again.
She was hiding something behind her back.
“Junie B., I’ve got someone who would love to meet you,” she said. “Close your eyes. And I’ll put him in your hand.”
My tummy got butterflies in it.
“What is it, Grandma? Will it tickle me? Will I like it? It won’t bite me, will it, Grandma Miller? Huh? It won’t, right?”
Then I closed my eyes real tight.
And my grandma opened up my fingers.
And she put the surprise right in my hand.
4/Ooey Gooey
“EEEW! YUCK! IT’S A WORM! IT’S A WORM! GET IT OFF ME, GRANDMA! GET IT OFF RIGHT NOW!” I yelled.
Grandma Miller quick took back the worm.
“For heaven’s sake, Junie B. What in the world is the matter with you? It’s just a baby earthworm. Look how teeny he is. This little fellow would make a wonderful pet.”
I did a huffy breath at her.
“Yeah, only worms cannot be pets, Grandma. ’Cause pets have fur so you can pet them. And worms just have ooey gooey skin.”
Grandma Miller looked surprised at me.
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “Not all pets have fur. My bird Twitter doesn’t have fur, and he’s a pet. And goldfish don’t have fur. And hermit crabs don’t have fur. And lizards don’t have fur. And—”
I covered my ears with my hands.
“Okay, okay. Enough with the fur,” I said. “But worms don’t have eyes or ears, either. And they don’t have legs or tails or feet or necks. And they don’t chirp or bark or cluck or meow. And so what kind of stupid pet do you call that?”
Grandma Miller thought and thought.
Then she smiled real big.
“I’d call that the kind of pet that won’t wake up the neighbors or sniff the company or scratch himself silly,” she said back.
After that, she stood up. And she gave the baby earthworm to Mother.
“I’ll leave this little guy with your mother for now,” she said. “You can think it over and see if you want to keep him. I’ll check back with you later.”
Then she kissed me on my head.
And she grabbed the ice chest.
And she hurried out the door.
Mother looked at the baby worm in her hand. “My goodness. You are a little one, aren’t you?” she said.
She got an empty mayonnaise jar out of the cabinet.
Then she poked holes in the lid for air. And she put the baby worm inside.
Mother looked at him in there.
“You don’t even know where you are, do you, little fella?” she said. “I bet it’s kind of scary in there all by yourself.”
I turned my back on her. ’Cause I knew what she was up to, that’s why.
“You can’t make me like him, Mother,” I said. “Nobody can make me like him.”
“Of course not,” said Mother. “But just because you don’t like him doesn’t mean I can’t like him.”
She talked to the worm some more.
“Hmm. Maybe you’d be happier if you had some dirt to crawl around in,” she said. “Let’s go outside and see what we can do.”
After that, Mother put on her jacket. And she went outside. And she digged in the dirt from her garden.
She came inside and showed me the jar.
It looked kind of cute in there.
There was a rock and a stick and a dandelion and some clovers.
&nbs
p; I peeked at the baby worm.
He peeked back, I think.
“Yeah, only I still don’t like him,” I said kind of softer.
I rocked back and forth on my feet.
“And anyway…even if I did like him, I don’t know what worms eat. And so what would I even feed that guy?”
Mother ruffled my hair.
“Are you kidding? That’s the best part about worms,” she said. “They get all of their food right from the soil. You don’t have to feed them anything at all.”
Just then, my baby brother started to cry.
“Uh-oh. The baby’s crying,” she said. “Here. Take this.”
Then she quick handed me the jar.
And she runned right out of the room.
5/Catching Friends
I watched the little worm very careful.
He wiggled himself into the dirt.
I tapped on the glass.
“Yeah, only here’s the problem. Now I can’t see you anymore. And so what fun is that?” I asked.
I took off the lid and put my lips in the jar.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” I said real loud.
Then I waited very patient. But the worm did not come out.
“Hey, in there! Don’t you even know I’m talking to you?”
Then—all of a sudden—my brain thought of something very important!
Of course he didn’t know I was talking to him!
How could he know I was talking to him if he didn’t even have a name!
I quick closed my eyes real tight. And I tried to think of a worm name.
Pretty soon, my eyes springed wide open.
“NOODLE!” I said real thrilled. “I will name you Noodle! ’Cause noodles and worms are twins, practically!”
I yelled in the jar again.
“HERE, NOODLE! HERE, NOODLEY LITTLE NOODLE!”
Just then, Mother peeked her head in the kitchen door.
“What’s all the shouting about in here?” she asked. “Who’s Noodle?”
I pointed to my dirt jar.
“Noodle is my worm,” I said. “Only he crawled way into the dirt. And now he won’t come out. Not even when I call his name.”
Mother looked in the jar.
“Hmm…maybe he’s taking a nap,” she said. “Or maybe he’s just exploring his new home.”