What’s up, diary?
In a few minutes, another reign of torture is going to begin. Spring semester of seventh grade. Whoosh, another whole semester is going to go by. And then whoosh, eighth grade, ninth grade and tenth grade are going to go by. Then it’ll be time to retire. For two weeks I’ve been a free man with a cheerful mind and a sound body. Starting today, I’ll be locked up in the dungeon, with nothing to comfort me but greasy lasagna, math tests and P.E.
I wonder if anything important has happened over Christmas vacation. Like if the snow plow has piled up any new mounds of snow or if Lisa’s boobs have gotten any bigger. Lisa’s boobs are usually the most important topic of conversation among us guys. After Nigel’s dirt-bike, of course.
Really though, I should refuse to go to school today. After all, I only got EIGHT Christmas presents. It was a bad year. Last year I came second in my class in the Christmas present competition. I had gotten 17. Nugget won. He said he had gotten 1,984 presents. No-one believed him. Nugget demonstrated a karate hold on Jasper. Everyone believed him. Nugget doesn’t go to my school any more. He moved to Sioux Falls after sixth grade. Poor, poor Sioux Falls.
Arnold called this morning at quarter after four. Dad answered. When Dad had finished cursing, he woke me up so I could talk to Arnold. Arnold had something important to tell me: he’s going to wear his big, Mexican sombrero to school today. After all, he just got back from Acapulco.
“It’s pronounced Akkapoolko,” Arnold said, and hung up.
The best thing about spring semester is that when it’s over then it’s summer vacation. Then you get to eat ice cream and go barefoot and barbeque and get sunburned and bitten by mosquitos and ... actually, winter is pretty cool. You get to go sledding and skiing and have snowball fights and frozen toes and itchy hats and a snotty nose and ... I wonder what the weather is like on the moon?
Uh-oh, Mom’s started yelling at me for the fifth time that I have to go run to school now. School starts in three minutes. So I should still have time to read some of my new Phantom comic book before I go.
Gotta run ... really!