Mr. Klutz Is Nuts!

sure.”
    “A.J., if I were to give you some candy, do you think it might help you remember to bring in your current event next time?”
    “My parents told me never to take candy from strangers,” I told him.
    “I’m not a stranger,” Mr. Klutz said. “Did you ever hear anyone say ‘your principal is your pal’? If you need to spell the word principal , you can always remember, your princi pal is your p-a-l . Get it?”
    “Well, if you put it that way, I suppose I could take some candy.”
    Mr. Klutz reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a chocolate bar.
    It was the kind with marshmallow inside, and caramel. My mouth was watering. “Go easy with the hockey.

    And let’s see if you can remember to bring in that current event tomorrow,” he said as he handed me the candy bar.
    “Don’t tell anyone about this, okay? It’s just a little secret between you and me.”
    “Okay!”
    I ran out of the office just in case he had only given me the candy bar so he could tie me to a chair and torture me.

When I got back to the class, everybody looked at me. I guess they wanted to see if I was crying or bleeding or anything.
    “Did Klutz bring you down into his torture chamber?” Ryan whispered when I sat in my seat.
    “Nope,” I said. “He gave me a present.” 
    “What did he give you?”
    “I can’t tell you.”
    “Oh, come on!”
    “I promised I wouldn’t tell.”
    “I’ll be your best friend.”
    “Well, okay. I’ll show you at lunch.” During lunch, I sat at a table with my new best friend Ryan, Michael, smarty-pants Andrea, and Emily, who cries all the time even if she isn’t hurt or anything.
    You should have seen their eyes bug out when I showed them the candy bar.
    “Where did you get that ?” Michael asked. “Your mom usually gives you carrot sticks for dessert.”
    “Mr. Klutz gave it to me,” I explained.
    “He’s got a whole drawer filled with them.”
    “Why did he give you a candy bar?” asked Emily. I could tell she was jealous.
    “Because I didn’t bring in my current event,” I explained.
    “Wait a minute!” Andrea said, all angry and all. “You got sent to the principal’s office for being bad, and instead of punishing you, he gave you a candy bar?
    That’s not fair! I brought in three current events and I didn’t get a candy bar.”
    “Maybe you should try not being so perfect all the time,” I said. “You can have my carrot sticks, Andrea.”
    I love getting Andrea mad. She thinks she knows everything. Whenever we have a homework assignment, she does extra work just to show Miss Daisy how smart she is and to make the rest of us look bad.
    “Mr. Klutz told me he’s my pal,” I said, biting off a big piece of the chocolate bar right in front of Andrea’s face. “He said I could come in for a candy bar any time I want one.”

    That last part wasn’t exactly true, but it was fun to say anyway.
    “The principal should give candy to students who complete their assignments,” Andrea said. “Not to kids who don’t.”
    “Yeah,” Emily sniffed. She looked like she might run out of the room crying like she usually does for no reason.
    “I want to go to the principal’s office!” my best friend Ryan announced.
    “Me too!” Michael agreed. “I want a candy bar!”
    They all watched while I finished off the candy. I licked the extra chocolate off my fingers and rubbed my tummy, just to make sure they would know how good it was.
     
     

It just so happens that I know of the perfect way to get sent to the principal’s office. All you have to do is put a tack on the teacher’s chair. My friend Billy told me he did this once and he got sent to the principal’s office.
    I waited until recess, when Andrea and Emily ran off to play with the girls. Then I told the plan to my best friend Ryan and Michael.
    “That’s genius!” exclaimed my best friend Ryan.
    “What if Miss Daisy gets hurt?” asked Michael.
    “She won’t get hurt,” I told him. “She’ll jump up so fast that she won’t hardly feel it.”
    So at the end of recess, the three of us snuck back into our classroom. It was empty. Miss Daisy was eating in the teacher’s room. Ryan pulled a tack out of the bulletin board and put it on Miss Daisy’s chair. Then we ran out to the playground just as the end-of-recess bell was ringing. When we filed back into the class, Ryan, Michael, and I could barely look at one another because we were afraid we’d burst out laughing. I