Attack of the Mutant Underwear (12 page)

Speaking of big eaters, those tadpoles must be gobbling a lot. Their back legs are growing fast! MC and Jordy want to keep track of whose are the longest. I showed them how to chart it all on a graph. MC said, “Neato!” Right now Grumpy is ahead.

Wednesday, May 2

Today in PE Mrs. Radish said that not only do we boys have to hold hands with our square dance partners, but we also have to put our arms over their shoulders when we walk around the square side by side. (That's called a promenade, in case you didn't know.) Libby and I got it okay, but I could tell she didn't like it any more than I did.

Tyler and Zach almost got into a fight over soccer. Zach said Tyler tripped him. Tyler said he didn't. Zach said he did. Tyler said he didn't. Zach said he did. Tyler said, “You argue all the time.” Zach said, “No, I don't! You do!” Tyler said, “No, I don't! You do!” Zach balled up his fists. Tyler did, too. And for a minute I thought they were really going to slug it out.

But then Emerson walked up and tripped over his own feet. He flopped face first onto the ground with his big butt sticking up in the air and the top of his underwear showing.

Everybody started laughing. Which would have
completely
fried me. But Emerson just laughed, too, like he enjoyed embarrassing situations. Anyway, with all that going on, Zach and Tyler forgot about their argument.

Thursday, May 3

Zach called me Big Guy today. “Hey, Big Guy!” was what he said. Then he slapped me on the back like we are really good friends.

Which we are, you know.

After school MC came running into my room (without knocking, of course), shouting “Sleepy's got front legs! Grumpy, too!” She grabbed me and dragged me to go see. Sure enough, two of the tadpoles now have front legs. “They weren't there this morning when I got up!” MC said. “It's a miracle!”

While she took a bunch of photos, I looked in her tadpole book and found out that actually the front legs were growing all along, just covered by a thin layer of skin. That's what all tadpoles do. Then they just broke through, and—tah-dah!—four-legged froggies.

Fund-raiser car wash for the Incredible-Fantastic-End-of-the-Year Camp-Out will be a week from Saturday at the Texaco station.

Friday, May 4

Today was Dress Like a Book Character Day. Ms. B's idea. She loves reading. She wore pig ears made out of felt. “I'm Wilbur,” she said, “from
Charlotte's Web!”

I forgot and just came as regular old me.

Still stuck with Libby in square dance. Amy switched partners, though, and ended up with Tyler. Libby whispered, “Bet you're jealous, huh?”

Ha! I didn't care who Amy danced with. I laughed right in Libby's face. Ha! Ha! Mrs. Radish said that if I keep it up, she really is going to send me to the office, no kidding, just try her one more time and see.

Doc the tadpole died. MC and Jordy found him after school, floating belly-up in the bucket. MC cried. Jordy put his arm around her shoulder and said, “Doc will be in tadpole heaven.” They had a funeral with Elvis music and buried Doc in the backyard.

Saturday, May 5

Jordy showed up right before lunch (his timing is always good) with a new Doc swimming around in a jar. He said Amy went down to the park this morning and caught it for him and MC.

Which was a nice thing to do. I guess. If you don't mind frogs. And if you don't have to live with them in the house, like I do.

Still, I would have caught them a new Doc if they'd just asked.

Sunday, May 6

Went over to Zach's house. His big brother Travis has a sign on his bedroom door that says,
NO FARTING ZONE!
Zach said, “Right. He's the worst farter in the family. I'll bet he farts fifty times a day.”

Which was probably an exaggeration. But it got me to thinking: just how many times a day
do
people fart?

Which seemed like a perfectly good scientific question.

Which would make it a perfectly good science fair project,
if
I could figure out a way to count farts. The problem is that most people try to act like they didn't fart. If it's a silent one and not too stinky, they'll just keep on talking, or doing their math, or whatever. How would I count those?

Of course, lots of farts aren't silent. They can come out in one big loud shot. Or two at a time. Or a whole series of little poots. They can blat, or poof, or pop, or fizz, or froot. Sometimes they even sound like a tuba, or a French horn, or what Dad calls a “toot on nature's trumpet.” But no matter what style of fart, people try to cover up the noise. They shuffle their feet, or cough, or tap their pencil. It'd be tough not to miss some.

That just leaves counting the smell. Which might seem simple enough, but it would be hard, too. Farts can smell like beans, or a garbage can, or sulfur (which is the worst, in my scientific opinion). And even when one goes really high on the Peeuw scale, let's say an eight or nine, and you know for sure that's a fart you're smelling, the farter will often blame the dog, or just get up and leave the room.

So that would make it pretty impossible to answer my scientific question. Which means maybe this wouldn't make such a perfectly good science fair project after all. Or even just a plain old good one. Too bad. Imagine the look on Ms. B's face (and the grin on Zach's) when I unveiled my display: “The Farting Zone!”

I'd be famous.

Monday, May 7

Today in square dancing we learned to do a grand right and left. Emerson kept getting right and left mixed up. He turned the wrong way and bumped into Libby. I thought she was going to haul off and whack him, but she didn't.

Tuesday, May 8

Got to school a little early this morning. Amy and Ms. B were watching the Hamster Channel. Ralphster must have been fixing to do a death-defying motorcycle stunt or something extreme, because both Amy and Ms. B looked worried. I wanted to watch, too, but Amy and I don't get along so well anymore.

Wednesday, May 9

Finally, I got to switch partners and get away from Libby. Mrs. Radish put me with Emily, the new girl from Texas who sits in the back of the class and hardly says a word. We learned to twirl and swing. I twirled Emily a little too hard, I guess, and she almost fell down. Mrs. Radish gave me the evil eye again, but Emily smiled and said, “Yeehaw!” Which, when coming from the quietest kid in the class, means I'm a pretty good dancer. So
there,
Mrs. Radish!

Thursday, May 10

MC said I have stinky feet. I told her she has a messed-up nose. But then I sniffed my soccer shoes and PEEUW! I hate to admit it (and never would to MC), but she's right!

Which got me wondering: So what causes stinky feet, anyway? Dad said, “The stinky feet gremlins.” Mom said, “Bacteria. It grows down in your shoes, then gets in between your toes.” Which sounded like science talk to me, and all of a sudden I was thinking, Maybe I could do a stinky feet project for the science fair!

I got on the Internet and found a website full of experiments kids can do. It explained how to collect a microscopic sample with a Q-tip. (Just rub it between your toes.) And gave a recipe using stuff from the kitchen to make this gooey stuff they call a “medium” to help your sample grow.

I found everything I needed—chicken bouillon cubes, sugar, yeast—and boiled it so it would be sterile, just like the instructions said. Then all I had to do was let the medium cool, pour it into a canning jar, toss in the Q-tip, close the lid real tight, and—presto!—my project was off and running!

I put the jar in the back of my closet, where it's dark and warm, like the inside of a shoe. If it works, I'll grow lots of disgusting organisms that will stink like my—er, someone's funky soccer cleats. And I can display them at the science fair, and everybody (even Ms. B) will pass out from the smell!

Which would be very dramatic, and very cool.

Title idea for this journal:
The Very Dramatic and Very Cool Life of Cody Lee Carson
.

Car wash Saturday to raise money for the Incredible-Fantastic-End-of-the-Year Camp-Out. Ms. B says, “Be there or be square.”

Be square? Must be old-person talk.

Saturday, May 12

Great day for a car wash—sunny and warm. We cleaned nineteen cars. Most people gave us five dollars or so, but some gave us extra when they heard what we were earning it for. And then Amy's dad donated some more cash, just because. So altogether we earned $132.

Which, added to the $439.50 we earned on the chocolate bars, gives us $571.50!

Which Ms. B said was
finally
enough for our Incredible-Fantastic-End-of-the-Year Camp-Out. We celebrated by spraying her with water. Zach really got her. He's a good shot. Only problem was, Ms. B's a better shot!

Found Emma hanging around MC's door again. Shooed her away, but later she snuck right back.

Monday, May 14

Got partnered up with Amy in square dancing today. She acted like there was nothing weird about it, so I did, too. Mrs. Radish tried to teach us a move called “duck for the oyster, dive for the clam.” It sounded more like a seafood dinner than a dance to me and was pretty complicated. Amy and I got it right, though, and Mrs. Radish rewarded us by making us demonstrate for the whole class. Amy seemed proud and smiled at me for the first time since Valentine's Day. I smiled back.

Tuesday, May 15

Ms. B says we'll leave for our Incredible-Fantastic-End-of-the-Year Camp-Out on Thursday, June seventh, and not come back until Friday afternoon. Yahoo!

Speaking of Mother Nature, she sure can pull some pretty weird tricks. Tonight MC came busting into my room near tears and said, “Grumpy's tail is shrinking!” Then she dragged me to look. “See? It's shorter today than it was yesterday!”

I looked in the tadpole book and found out it's called tail resorption. Which is just fancy scientific talk for eating your own tail. Not like hey-this-is-good-please-pass-the-ketchup kind of eating. More like I've-had-enough-of-this-spinach-diet-you've-been-feeding-me kind of eating. In the meantime, I'll just live off this tail of mine. Won't need it anymore once I get to be a full-blown frog, anyway!”

MC broke into a big grin. “Wow!” she said.

I watched her take more photos for her froggie album, then I found myself thinking, Wow is right. This would make a
great
science project, better than anything so far! And the greatest thing about it is that it's already done. They've got that graph (that I helped them make) and a ton of photos (that I taught them how to take). All I'd have to do is come up with the scientific question, which would be … How can Cody get his project done with the least amount of work?

Wednesday, May 16

I waited until after breakfast to ask MC if I could use her frogs and the photos and the graph. She said, “No.” She's just playing hard to get. Give me a little time, and I'll have her
begging
me to use them!

Thursday, May 17

During math Zach walked past Emerson's desk and put a sticky note on his back that said, “Pinch me!” Emerson peeled it off, changed “pinch” to “kiss,” then slapped the note back over his shoulder.

Zach said, “Don't hold your breath, wide-body.” But at lunch I saw Amy give Emerson a Hershey's Kiss, and they both laughed.

Maybe I should get some sticky notes, too.

Friday, May 18

If I never square-dance again for the rest of my life, that would be too soon. Today when Mrs. Radish said, “Swing like thunder!” I did just what she said, and Amy and I bonked heads.

Amy said, “You did that on purpose!” Then she started to cry.

I tried to explain to her and to Mrs. Radish that it was just an accident, and that I really and truly didn't mean to do it, because really and truly I didn't!

But Amy wouldn't even look at me, and Mrs. Radish said, “I've warned you enough,” and sent me to the office. Ms. B found out, so now she's mad at me, too. She says that if I don't get my act together, I can't go on the Incredible-Fantastic-End-of-the-Year Camp-Out. I'll have to sit in Mr. Malcombe's room for two days and do nothing but worksheets.

Thanks a lot, Amy! You are nothing more than a pain in the gazoobie! Mrs. Radish and Ms. B, too!

Saturday, May 19

All the tadpoles are now looking more like little frogs. In just four days their tails have almost all gone bye-bye. I told MC they were superstars, for sure. She smiled.

See, I'm winning her over already.

Monday, May 21

Libby came up to me today at recess and said, “Why did you hurt Amy?”

I said, “Amy who?”

Libby rolled her eyes and called me something under her breath.

Like I care. Ha!

Wednesday, May 23

Emerson gets to take Ralphster home for Memorial Day weekend. When he learned his name had been drawn, he told Amy not to worry. “Ralphster will be in the best of care.”

Amy didn't look at all convinced.

Thursday, May 24

Heard the awfulest noise coming from MC's room today. Sounded like a sick cow. Went in to find my little sister with her head in the tadpole bucket.

“Are you okay?” I said.

Head still in the frogarium, MC sang, “Yeah-yeah-yeah! I'm s-s-singing, singing Elvis with my fr-fr-frogs.”

I thought, Please st-st-stop, but seeing as how I need to use her fr-fr-frogs, instead I said, “Oh, that's nice. They like Elvis tunes too, huh?” I bent over the frogarium and listened. What I heard wasn't Elvis—duh!—but little froggie sounds. Not
ribbit,
like you see written in books. More like
kreck-ek, kreck-ek.
“Cool!” I said, and I actually meant it, because it was.

MC smiled like moms do when someone compliments their baby. But she still said no when I said I thought her frogs would like to sing for my science project.

Friday, May 25

After I handed in my math today, I asked Ms. B if I'd straightened up enough to go on the Incredible-Fantastic-End-of-the-Year Camp-Out. She looked at me real hard and said, “So far, so good.”