It was the first day of Christmas break. Mom and Dad were working, so I had to go to Camp. Every year I went to Camp, and every year it was run by the same lady: Mrs. Grouchre. (The kids all called her Mrs. Grouch for short.) Grouchre basically sat back in her chair while nibbling on pickles. She would never get out of her seat, just yell at you from there.
Most people would keep their distance, and behave like angels. But like any other group of kids, there were a few who didn’t.
It was 12:35, and we still hadn’t had lunch. No one reminded Mrs. Grouch, because they all knew it would make her yell even louder. Right then, she was trying to break up a fight between Melissa and Meredith. And the yelling was about as loud as it gets. You see, the Terrible Twins had also been there since the beginning, and were famous for being brats. Big ones.
In first grade, they had smacked each other in the face. Melissa had gotten a black eye, and Meredith, a huge bruise. That was the only thing that was different between them. They were both little devils, both identical, and both terrible. And everyone who met them agreed.
At the age of ten and a half, most people expected the twins to have grown up a bit. Maybe a little less whacking, a little less violence, and a little less stupidity. But that was wishful thinking.
Now 12:59, the rest of the kids lined up. Melissa and Meredith sat across from each other, glaring. They had been trying to snip Emily Ann’s beautiful locks of hair while she was reading. When they had succeeded, Emily had screamed. Of course, Mrs. Grouch had screamed, too. Demanding what had happened, she learned the story and screamed even louder at the Makleens, “You two stop it NOW, or so help my pickles!” Then she had tossed a pickle jar at them, which hit the wall instead.
At last, realizing that it was 1:08, Mrs. Grouch sent everyone outside for lunch. Everyone, that was, except the Makeleens. At the end of the line, a little boy on his way out said, “Are you coming with us, Mrs. Grouchre?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m afraid not. I have some trouble makers to deal with,” And with a terrifying cackle, old Mrs. Grouchre marched back to room 104.
To be continued..
- In one or two more posts
- As the new series
Please help me decide by commenting. Thanks! 🙂