My Miserable Life (9 page)

Angelina and I didn't brush our teeth, take baths, or even put on our pajamas, and Mom was too busy with Tree to remind us for once. Angelina sat Monkeylad on her lap and made him “sing” a Dustin Peeper song like a ventriloquist's dummy.

“‘I love you, baby, you pretty little girl.'”

“But you're not as cute as my friend the squirrel,” I added.

This cracked us both up. I had actually made Angelina laugh!

“Angelina, can I have Monkeylad tonight?” I asked.

“Sure.”

I couldn't believe it. I got up and took Monkeylad in my arms and brought him back to my cot. He snuggled up next to me with his snout tucked into my armpit. He felt so warm.

“What do you think of Tree?” I asked my sister after we'd turned off the lights. Monkeylad had started to snore softly into my armpit, and it tickled.

“What do you think I think?” she said, but she didn't sound mean like she sometimes does.

“That he's crazy, like all of Mom's friends?” I said.

“Yes,” said Angelina. “How about you?”

“I think he's crazy, too,” I said.

But secretly, I was kind of glad to have another guy around, since I'd never had a dad. Monkeylad and I sometimes got tired of being the men of the house. It was a pretty big responsibility.

“Can Monkeylad still sleep with me sometimes when I move back in my room?” I asked Angelina.

“We'll see,” she said.

*   *   *

In the morning I had this tingly feeling in my stomach that might have actually been happiness. I guess that's where the expression
that Christmas-morning feeling
comes from.

I tiptoed into the living room at 5:45
A.M.
The air in the house was cold, and the room smelled like pine needles from the Christmas bush. My mom said she was saving money this year by getting a bush instead of a tree. When she brought it home, she reminded me of Monkeylad bringing us unwanted meat: all proud and happy, and Angelina and me just staring at him like,
What the heck are you doing, please get that thing out of here.

Beside the Christmas bush (not
under
it, because it was too short) was something wrapped awkwardly in newspaper. I could tell right away what it was.

“Mom!” I yelled. “Angelina! Monkeylad!” I couldn't even act cool. I almost wanted to call for Thursday.

My mom came in first in her red footsie pajamas that she likes to wear on Christmas, and Angelina in her Hey! Bunny Rabbit! pajamas.

“Did Santa bring you something good?” my mom asked.

I was too excited to be mad at her for talking baby talk. I started ripping off the newspaper wrapping. A brand-new red bike! When I sat on it, my knees didn't touch my elbows like with my old one. It was extremely AWESOME.

After we ate whole wheat pancakes, I asked if I could ride my new bike. My mom said, “Not by yourself. Maybe Angelina will go. Or maybe Tree will go with you later. He's really into bikes.”

But Angelina wasn't going to ride bikes with me. And I didn't want Tree to go. I didn't even know him. Rocko and Leif Zuniga were probably riding bikes together around their neighborhood while their not-so-safe mothers were home watching lots of TV and eating some of the cookies they had baked for their children.

I wanted to tell my mom that it was more dangerous inside our house than outside, because there were crazy people trying to stick you with needles and creepy people in shoes with real spikes sticking out of them, ready to impale you.

I told my mom she was mean. Why couldn't she be a less safe mom?

The thing about my mom is, no matter how angry I get at her, she'll usually just hug and kiss me and tell me she loves me. And usually I let her. Angelina doesn't. When Angelina gets mad at her, my mom usually ignores it and says “I love you” and tries to hug her, and Angelina runs away screaming and crying and slamming doors. So this time, when my mom tried to hug me, I wouldn't let her. I decided to be more like Angelina, because that seemed to work out better for her.

*   *   *

Tree came over, and we rode bikes to the top of the hill together, and we watched the sun setting over Filmland, making the sky pink and orange and purple. You could see a thin crescent moon. The sunset was cool, and Tree was pretty nice, actually, but it wasn't the same as being with my nonexistent friends.

 

CHAPTER 10

SUPER SPORT BASEBALL CLEAT CAMP

The first day of Super Sport Baseball Cleat Camp, my mom drove me up the hill to the field. We passed the dog park, where we can never, ever take Monkeylad because he will go crazy and bark at all the other dogs until we are thrown out. We passed ladies in matching shirts, race-walking. My mom beeped the horn at them and pumped her fist in the air. “Go, ladies!” she said. I slid down in my seat. We passed the now-deserted snack bar where I'm never allowed to get a hot dog.

We parked, and my mom had to walk me over to the dugout to meet my coach, Terrence Hoof, and pay him for the camp.

A really tall man in a Genies hat was tying his cleats. He looked up and smiled at me big. His chompers made mine look small.

“You a Darters fan?”

I nodded.