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1 / Confusing Stuff
    My name is Junie B. Jones. The B stands for Beatrice. Except I don’t like Beatrice. I just like B and that’s all.
    I am almost six years old.
    Almost six is when you get to go to school. And so, last summer Mother took me to the school office. And she ’rolled me in afternoon kindergarten.
    ’
Rolled
is the grown-up word for
signed me up and made me go.
    Only guess what?
    I don’t even mind going there, hardly. ’Cause I made two bestest friends at that place, that’s why!
    Their names are Lucille and that Grace.
    We are like three peas in a row.
    My teacher’s name is Mrs. She has another name, too. But I just like Mrs. and that’s all.
    Only here is the trouble. Just when I was getting good at kindergarten, Mrs. made a ’nouncement to our class. And she said that pretty soon, school is going to end!
    I did a gasp at that terrible news.
    “No, Mrs.! No, no, no! How can school
end?
’Cause Mother said I have to go to school till I am an old teenager. And I am not even six years old yet!”
    Mrs. quick shaked her head.
    “Oh dear, I’m sorry, Junie B.,” she said.“I’m afraid that you’ve misunderstood me. School isn’t going to end
forever.
School will just be taking a summer vacation.”
    She smiled at me. “You, and everyone else in this class, will come back to school in September. It’s just that you won’t be in Room Nine anymore.”
    I quick got out a paper and crayon.
    “Okey-doke. Then tell me the name of our new room,” I said. “’Cause I will need to tell Mother where to bring me.”
    Mrs. did a little frown. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “But right now, I have no idea what room you’ll be in next year.”
    Now I did a frown, too.
    “So what am I s’posed to do, then? Just wander around the school until I find you people?”
    Mrs. looked funny at me.
    “You still don’t understand,” she said. “Next year you’re going to have a
different
teacher, Junie B. Next year you’re going to be in
first.
”
    “First what?” I asked.
    “First
grade
,” she said.
    Just then, my stomach felt sickish inside. ’Cause I don’t even
like
first graders, that’s why. First graders are bullies to me at recess.And I don’t want to be in the same room as those guys.
    Pretty soon, a boy named William started to sniffle very much. ’Cause William hates first graders even more than me.
    That’s because one time a first grader stoled William’s winter hat with the ear flaps. And he put it on a dog that was running around the playground. And thedog runned away with William’s ear-flap hat forever.
    I patted William very nice.
    “Me and William don’t want to be in the same room as first graders,” I told Mrs. “Me and William prefer children our own age.”
    “Me too,” said my bestest friend Lucille. “I prefer children my own age, too.”
    “Me too,” hollered a boy named Paulie Allen Puffer.
    “Me too,” said a girl named Charlotte.

    Mrs. said
shh
to us.
    “Boys and girls,
please.
Now everyone is misunderstanding me,” she said. “We need to get clear on this right now. Next year—when you come back to school—you will
not
be in class with the children who are first graders this year. Next year, thosechildren will move up to
second
grade. And
you
people will move to first. Understand?”

    I thought and thought about that.
    Then, all of a sudden, a light bulb came on in my head.
    “Ohhh! I get it now!
All
of the grades move up! Right, Mrs.? Everyone does!”
    She clapped her hands. “Right! Exactly!” she said very happy. “Now may I please get on with my announcement?”
    I brushed my skirt very smoothie.
    “Yes, you may,” I said real polite.
    “Okay,” said Mrs. “As I started to tell you earlier, I have very happy news for Room Nine. Because this year—for the first time ever—we are going to go on a special end-of-the-year field trip!”
    She smiled real big. “We’re going to a farm! Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
    “A