Once I got home from school, I plopped down on the couch. Then I frowned. Then I grumbled. Then I punched the pillow. Guess what kind of mood I was in.

Did you guess yet?

Ready?

I’ll wait.

I’ll wait a bit longer.

Okay. If you guessed that I was in “a terrible mood,” you’re right. Correct answers also include “awful mood,” “horrible mood,” and “muy mal humor.” That last one is Spanish for “very bad mood.”

Our dog, Waggles, sat next to me on the couch. He wore a purple, polka-dotted sweater. It looked ridiculous on him. Waggles is a boy. But my sisters and mom always dress him in yucky girly things.

Waggles licked my face to try to cheer me up. Waggles has a giant, squishy tongue. He drools a lot. He’s pretty much a champion drooler. If drooling were ever an Olympic sport, Waggles would win a gold medal.

I patted him and said, “I’m sure you meant well. But your drool dripped down my face and got all over my pants.”

My younger sister, Mia, came into the room. She pressed the belly button of her Princess Sing-Along doll. The doll started singing a song from the Princess Sing-Along TV show.

It was more like screeching than singing. Mia joined in. They screeched, “Make sure to sneeze into your hand, la la la. So you’ll know where your snot will land, la la la.”

Mia stopped singing.

The Princess Sing-Along doll kept singing. “When you feel sick, stay home from school, la la la. Oozing pus and germs is not cool, la la la.”

I pressed hard on the doll’s belly button to get it to stop.

“Be nice to Princess Sing-Along,” Mia said. Then she pointed to the dog drool on my pants.

“Waggles did that,” I said.

“He pee-peed on you?” she asked.

“No,” I said.

“That’s what I thought. You wet your pants,” Mia said.

Before I could explain, Mia said, “Next time you need to tinkle, run to the bathroom.” Then she sang another Princess Sing-Along song: “Use the potty. Don’t be shy, la la la. Keep your undies nice and dry, la la la.”

Then she danced away.

My older sister, Alexa, came into the room.

She held a bunch of ugly rubber bracelets. “I found these bracelets when I was cleaning out my closet,” she said. “They used to be really popular, but I haven’t used them in years. Do you want them?”

I shook my head.

“You wet your pants. Eww,” she said.

I looked down at the big wet spot on my pants. “That’s not pee. That’s dog drool.”

“You have dog drool on your pants. Eww,” she said.

Then Mom came in. She sat down next to me on the sofa. “I can tell you’re in a bad mood,” she said.

“I’m in a terrible, awful, horrible, muy mal mood,” I said.

She patted my shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Waggles drooled all over my pants. Even worse, I’m one of the only kids in third grade without any Puppet Pals.”

“I can take you to the toy store today to buy some,” she said.

I hugged her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now get your allowance money to pay for them,” Mom said.

I wished I could take back my hug. I told my mom, “I’m saving my allowance money for the Great Epic Superhero video game. I thought you would buy me Puppet Pals.”

“You thought wrong,” she said.

“But kids at school won’t play with me unless I have Puppet Pals,” I said.

“So go outside and play with the neighbors. But change your pants first,” Mom said.

“Okay.” I put on new pants and went outside.

My neighbors were sitting on the lawn next door. They were all playing with Puppet Pals.

I went back inside and plopped down on the couch again. I frowned again, grumbled again, and punched the pillow again. My mood was even more terrible, awful, horrible, and muy mal than before.

Then Waggles drooled on my new pants.