Never Glue Your Friends to Chairs (3 page)

“Children,” said Mr. Goosegarden. “I certainly hope you won’t disappoint your parents with this kind of rowdy behavior at the open house.”

Coco raised her hand.

“Roscoe started it, Mr. Goosegarden,” she said. “He made walrus teeth.”

Coco was not really being helpful.
If you ask me.

“I’m sure Roscoe will remember that walrus teeth are not appropriate,” said Mr. Goosegarden. “And that chairs are for sitting. Not sword fighting.”

He winked at me.

Mr. Goosegarden and I go way back.

“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know there was a no-walrus-teeth rule.”

“That’s okay, Roscoe,” said Mr. Goosegarden. “I know you will come through this afternoon.”

He smiled at Ms. Diz. “Don’t worry,” he said. “The first year of teaching is always the hardest.”

Mr. Goosegarden waved good-bye. The door closed behind him.

Ms. Diz sighed.

She looked at the clock on the wall. “It’s way past time for reading groups.
Let’s take off the head bobbles…. I mean the
antennae
. Just do the best you can this afternoon.”

She sounded sort of worn-out.

I felt bad about the walrus-teeth incident.

Like I said before, kids have so many rules to remember!

There are a gazillion things we are not supposed to do.

Who knew making walrus teeth was one of them?

After we put away the bobbles and sticks, we sat at tables for reading groups.

Reading is fun. But it can be very hard work.

You can get pretty thirsty trying to make those letters into words.

After I read four whole sentences,
I went to the water fountain to get a drink.

The fountain is next to the art cupboard.

Just then, Mr. Frisbee came in. He is a kindergarten teacher.

“May I borrow some chalk?” Mr. Frisbee asked Ms. Diz.

“Sure,” said Ms. Diz. She opened the art cupboard. I could see the art supplies I’d brought.

Including Drucilla’s head.

And the
don’t-you-dare
glue.

Ms. Diz gave Mr. Frisbee a fresh box of chalk. “Here you go,” she said.

“How was the dress rehearsal?” Mr. Frisbee asked.

Ms. Diz whispered something I couldn’t hear.

Then she laughed. “At this rate, I’ll be
looking for another job soon!”

They both laughed.

But I was pretty sure it was worried laughing.

Maybe you are wondering how I could tell.

After all, teachers can be confusing.

Not as confusing as parents.

But still. Sometimes teachers have trouble expressing themselves.

Fortunately, I have served in preschool and kindergarten already.

Also Mommy and Me Music.

And Gymborama.

And my clay class, Pots for Tots.

So I am happy to explain teacher stuff to you.

Here is my Goof-Proof Roscoe Riley Teacher Translator:

I told you not to feed glitter to the goldfish.

Really, really SHHHH.

Take the Play-Doh out of your ear this instant!

I quit. Just like the kindergarten teacher.

It’s pretty easy to understand teachers. Once you get the hang of it.

I’m still working on figuring out how to speak Parent, though.

I thought about what Ms. Diz had said to Mr. Frisbee.
At this rate, I’ll be looking for another job soon.

What if Mr. Goosegarden fired Ms. Diz? Just because of our rowdy behavior?

That would be awful.

After all, Ms. Diz is a great teacher.

Even if she is just a beginner.

Then I thought about my kindergarten teacher from last year.

The one who changed jobs after I painted the hamsters.

She works at an office now.

With no kids in it.

And no green hamsters.

How boring is that?

I could not let such a horrible thing happen to Ms. Diz.

Right after recess, it was time to get ready for the open house.

Ms. Diz and the room mothers set out chocolate chip cookies and cakes and pies on a big table.

And napkins and juice.

Those cookies looked DELICIOUS.

But I was too worried about the bee song to think about those delicious, chewy, chocolaty, melt-in-my-mouth cookies.

Well,
almost
too worried.

Ms. Diz arranged the chairs. Then she set out the sticks and the head bobbles on the counter.

“Your parents will be here in just a few minutes, children,” she said. “Check all the activity centers to be sure everything is nice and clean.”

“Ms. Diz?” called one of the room mothers. “Do you have any name tags?”

“I think I have some in the art cupboard,” said Ms. Diz.

She opened the cupboard doors. “Nope. No name tags. Let me see if they have any in the office. Children, I’ll be right back. Roscoe, why don’t you pass out
the antennae? Dewan, you hand out the sticks. But no funny business. The rest of you finish cleaning up.”

Ms. Diz rushed out the door.

The art cupboard doors were still open.

I could see the
don’t-you-dare
glue I’d brought.

And just then I had a Super-Mega-Gonzo idea.

I went over to the cupboard.

All the kids were busy cleaning up blocks and puzzle pieces and crayons.

The room mothers were not paying attention to me, either.

They were busy mopping up a juice spill. It was caused by a flying LEGO.

I picked up one of the head bobbles on the counter.

I reached for the
don’t-you-dare
glue.

I tried to read the label.

It took a LOT of work to read it.

Bonds instantly and permanently,
it said.
Glues wood, metal, glass, and paper.

The label did not mention head bobbles.

I opened the glue.

I put a little on the headband.

And I popped those bobbles on my head.

I waited a few seconds.

Then I wiggled my head.

The bobbles stayed on!

Nice and tight. Just like real bee bobbles.

Perfect.

I put a few drops of glue on all the other bobbles.

Then I slipped the tube of glue into my pocket.

One by one, I passed out bobbles to all the kids.

Hassan tried on his bobbles.

He didn’t notice the little drops of
don’t-you-dare
glue.

“Hey,” said Hassan. He shook his head. “Weird. My bobbles are staying on!”

“So are mine,” Maria said. “Ms. Diz must have fixed them.”

I handed bobbles to Gus and Dewan.

They were playing swords again.

“Gus!” I said. “No swords! This open house has got to be perfect.”

“They’re not swords,” he said. “They’re lightsabers.”

“Here,” I said. I put the bobbles on his head.

And gave the last pair to Dewan, who put them on.

“Hey,” said Dewan. “My bobbles aren’t bobbling!”

Mission accomplished,
I thought.

Roscoe to the rescue!

Ms. Diz came back with the name tags.

She was not happy to see Gus and Dewan playing swords again.

“Drummers, settle down,” she said firmly.

“My bobbles are staying on, Ms. Diz,” Maria reported.

“And so are mine,” said Coco.

Ms. Diz looked surprised. “Hmm,” she
said. “That’s good news.”

Just then Coco’s mom and dad arrived. “Smile, everyone!” said her mom. “We’re recording!”

Coco’s dad was holding a silver camcorder.

All the other moms and dads began to come in.

They smiled and talked and waved and shook hands.

While Ms. Diz was busy saying hello, Gus pointed his stick at Dewan. “I am Zorro!” he yelled.

“I am Darth Vader!” cried Dewan.

“Duel to the death!” Gus shouted.

They were going to have a hard time sitting still for the bee song, I thought.

And then I had another Super-Mega-Gonzo idea.

Sometimes my brain amazes me.

I went over to the drummer chairs.

I looked around. Nobody was watching me. And Mom and Dad weren’t there yet.

I pulled out the
don’t-you-dare
glue. And I put a few drops on each chair seat.

I smiled a proud smile.

The bee song would go perfectly.

Ms. Diz would keep her job.

And all because of me.

“Roscoe! Hello, Pumpkin!” someone called.

It was Mom.

She was carrying her banana-avocado-raisin cream pie.

It is not really okay for moms to call you “Pumpkin” in front of your classmates.

But that’s all right. Sometimes parents forget to follow the rules too.

My dad was right behind her.

He was carrying Hazel.

Hazel only goes to preschool half a day.

Little kids have it so easy.

“What’s on Roscoe’s head, Mommy?”

Hazel asked.

“These are my bee bobbles,” I said proudly.

I wiggled my head. They stayed put.

I am a genius,
I thought.

Ms. Diz clapped her hands and put a finger to her lips.

“Parents, please find a seat. We have an exciting performance planned for you!”

All the moms and dads sat down.

They had to squish into our little bitty chairs.

They looked pretty silly.

I was glad no one tried to sit in the chairs I’d glued.

“Places, everyone,” said Ms. Diz.

The bees lined up.

The bee drummers sat down.

Right on the glue.

All except Gus.

“There’s something on my chair,” he complained.

“Probably your own nose goo,” said Coco.

“Gus,” said Ms. Diz. “Please sit down.”

Gus sighed. He sat down with a plop.

“As you may know, we’ve been studying insects these past few weeks,” Ms. Diz said.

Suddenly Mr. Goosegarden appeared in the doorway.

“Hello, parents!” he said. “I’m just passing through. Didn’t want to miss hearing my favorite beehive perform!”

Mr. Goosegarden looked at all of us.

One eyebrow went up.

Just like my dad’s.

I wonder if there’s a school where they learn that eyebrow move.

Ms. Diz made a noise with her throat. Her face was a little pink.

Or maybe green.

I think that’s called stage fright.

“As I was saying,” she said. “We’ve
been learning about insects. Especially bees. And now we have a song we’d like to perform for you.”

Hazel made a buzzing sound.

All the parents laughed.

Everyone thinks she’s adorable.

It’s disgusting.

“All right, children,” said Ms. Diz. She made her voice a whisper. “We are going to do this just right this time!”

She looked over at the drummers.

Even Gus was sitting perfectly still.

Not that he had a choice.

“One, two, three!” said Ms. Diz.

We all sang loud and clear. And pounded nice and steady.

When we were done, the parents cheered and clapped.

Someone even whistled.

“Bravo!” a dad yelled.

Coco’s mom wiped tears from her eyes.

“Can we have cookies now?” asked Hazel.

Ms. Diz looked very happy.

And she wasn’t pink or green anymore.

Mr. Goosegarden grinned. “Children, I knew you’d come through. That was just perfect. I must say that I loved the way you BEE-haved.”

Everyone laughed at his bee joke.

Because you have to laugh when it’s the principal.

Mr. Goosegarden gave Ms. Diz a thumbs-up sign.

That means GOOD JOB.

Also YOU WON’T HAVE TO GO WORK IN A BORING, HAMSTER-FREE OFFICE.

He gave us all a big wave.

And then he left.

I couldn’t stop smiling. Everything had gone perfectly.

Thanks to me.

And a little bit of
don’t-you-dare
glue.

“All right, everybody,” said Ms. Diz. “Hand me your antennae and your sticks. And line up with your parents for dessert.”

All the kids clapped and cheered.

Then everybody pulled off their head bobbles.

At least, everybody
tried
to pull off their head bobbles.

“Ouch!” Emma cried.

“The bobbles won’t come off!” Dewan shouted.

“My hairs are pulling!” Gus yelled.

“MY BOBBLES ARE STUCK!!!” Coco screamed.

Everybody looked at me.

Their faces were kind of surprised.

Then mad.

Then REALLY mad.

It seemed like maybe a good time for me to go to the bathroom.

But when I tried to get up, my chair came with me.