Outside I wade into the biggest puddle I see. I imagine I’m exploring a huge lake. I imagine a monster at the bottom. I get to the other side of the puddle. I pull out Spell. I lean on my knee and wibble-wobble write:
The Puddle Monster is splashy and splooshy. It leaps out of the puddle, but I vanquish it.
I don’t think splooshy is a word.
I made up another word! I am an inventor! I imagine that I am an inventor. With a laboratory of inventions. Spell distracts me from my inventor dream.
Spell writes: One splashy, splooshy Puddle Monster coming up.
A mucky, muddy circle of water leaps up from the puddle. It is HUGE! Much bigger than I imagined. Bigger than me. I throw myself forward and try to vanquish it. The puddle screams and splooshes away down the block!
I write. Spell! I didn’t vanquish the puddle! It ran away.
I, um, wasn’t sure what vanquish means.
It means FIGHT AND WIN! It means TO DEFEAT!
I notice a little bit of water on Spell. Whoops! Luckily, it’s only a few drops.
I shake the water off Spell and me. Then I put Spell in one of my deep pockets. Deep is an adjective. Like super. And stunning. And spectacular. Ms. Hairball calls adjectives describing words because they describe things. I love adjectives. I love describing words because I want to be a writer when I grow up. Writers love describing things.
Trixie is my best friend. Her purple house is five houses down my block. Purple is an adjective, too. I try to think of more adjectives for her house: pretty, modern, spandangly. I don’t know if spandangly is a word. Maybe I made up another word!
I splash through puddles to her pristine front door. Pristine means perfect and tidy—Trixie and her mom are both perfectly tidy all the time! I knock our secret-code triple-knock. One loud KNOCK! And then two little quick ones—knock, knock.
Trixie glides out of her house. She thinks walking like this makes her look like a movie star. She wants to be a movie star more than anything.
“Hurry up, girls,” Trixie’s mom says.
Together, Trixie and I wade through another gigantic puddle. I check around for the Puddle Monster, but it is gone.
Trixie and I race the one block to school. I win. Before we go in, we wave goodbye to Trixie’s mom. Then we join the crowd of kids rushing to get to their classrooms before the late bell.
We arrive at Room 3B as the bell rings. Ms. Hairball has the nicest classroom in the whole school. She has fairy lights dangling all over the room, every wall is decorated with poems, and she has a book corner. Ms. Hairball is sitting in her reading chair. She is small and round like an apple. She has a smiley, rosy face. Also like an apple. Best of all, Ms. Hairball is a published author. Not like an apple.
As the kids come in, they sit on the rug in front of the reading chair. The other kids are all squirming. Dawson Dawsons squirms the most. (I know, he has a splendid name! I wish my name was Polly Pollys!)
Ms. Hairball is extra shiny today. Her gray dress is sleek, too. Sleek is a word my dad uses to describe cabinets.
He is a contractor, and he knows a lot of contractor words! Ms. Hairball is sleek and shiny and smiling. (Three S adjectives. Super!)
She sits silently. (More S words. This is getting SILLY!)
Finally, 3B settles down. Even Dawson Dawsons.
Ms. Hairball announces, “As you all know, today we are having our school fair.”
Everyone starts talking excitedly. Dawson Dawsons jumps and bounces and whoops. Like he has fireworks in his pants. Obviously, he doesn’t really have fireworks in his pants. That is a simile.
A simile is when you say something is like something else. And simile is one letter away from the word smile. An extra reason for me to love similes.
“One, two, three, eyes on me,” Ms. Hairball says. She lifts her fingers one, two, three.
“One, two, eyes on you,” we all reply.
“Who can remember the theme of the school fair?” she asks.
Uh, so easy! “It’s books!” I call out.
“Remember to raise your hand, Polly. But yes, you’re right. Our school fair theme is books. We are partnering with S.T.O.R.Y. Utopia.”
Utopia is the name of our town. Utopia means perfect place. But Utopia the town is a perfectly ordinary and boring place. S.T.O.R.Y. Utopia helps kids and families read together.
Ms. Hairball continues, “S.T.O.R.Y. Utopia will set up the fair for us. I hope some of you were able to bring a used book to donate to their reading programs.”
I put my shiny new dictionary on the pile. “I’m donating my new one, Ms. Hairball. My ancient dictionary is too precious.”
“Thank you, Polly. That is very kind.”
I beam.
Without putting up his hand, Dawson Dawsons asks, “When can we get popcorn?”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, class. S.T.O.R.Y. Utopia says their popcorn machine is broken. No popcorn.”
“Time for quiet reading and writing, class.”
We all go to our desks. I open Spell. I remember how Ms. Hairball told me that I am very kind! I fill up with happiness, like I am a cup filling up with hot tea.
Helping feels good. I am helping by donating a book.
I feel an idea floating in my mind like a shiny bubble. Everyone is going to be SO happy with my help.
