Don't Wear Polka-Dot Underwear with White Pants: (And Other Lessons I've Learned) Read Online Free Page B

reading.
    â€œWe’re supposed to read this,” Natalie argues.
    â€œBut Mrs. Spangle will never know if we just—” I look behind me at the books stacked up in the Reading Corner, which all look much more interesting than this silly Lincoln book (plus, I bet they have many more pictures)—“read this one.” I pick a book off the shelf, and I don’t even care which one it is just as long as it is not about some silly speech.
    â€œNo,” Natalie says. “We have to read this.” And this is why Natalie and I are not friends.
    I slump back down next to her and rest my elbows on my knees and my chin in my hands. Natalie’s glasses are framed in black, which seems like a waste. If I were lucky enough to wear glasses, I would make sure the frames were a stand-out-and-shout color like periwinkle, or at least red.
    â€œCan I try on your glasses?” I interrupt Natalie’s reading again.
    â€œNo,” she answers.
    â€œJust for one single second?” I ask. “Please?” I am super polite, just like Mrs. Spangle’s rule, because even black glasses are better to try on than no glasses at all.
    â€œNo,” Natalie says again. I sigh so that she knows I am not pleased, but Natalie just keeps reading this Abraham Lincoln book. Natalie readswith no expression and I read with a lot of expression, but Natalie won’t let me read one word before it is my turn.
    â€œThere is an exclamation point there,” I interrupt her again. “At the end of that sentence. You did not read it.”
    â€œYou don’t read punctuation, Mandy,” Natalie says, like I am some kind of dope or something.

    â€œI know .” I say “know” real loud because Natalie is making me angry. “But you have to exclaim when you say it. Like this.” I try to pull the book out of Natalie’s hands to demonstrate.
    â€œIt’s not your turn!” Natalie holds on tight to the sides of the book and lets out a big exclamation point.
    â€œSee how you did that?” I say. “You made an exclamation! Like, ’Wahoo!’ ” I am a very helpful reading partner, I think.
    â€œI’m telling.” Natalie stands up in a huff and a puff and marches off toward Mrs. Spangle’s desk.
    Natalie is a big tattletale.
    Mrs. Spangle tells Natalie and me to stop reading together, which is the best news I’ve heard all day. She does not tell me that I will be George Washington in the assembly, though, which would have been even better news.
    When we are packing to go home, Mrs. Spanglehas the Paper Passers hand out sheets to take to our parents. “Make sure your moms and dads see this as soon as you get home,” she says. “It’s their invitation to our Presidential Pageant.” And this is my big chance.
    I shoot my hand in the air, following the “No calling out” rule and everything.
    â€œYes, Mandy?” Mrs. Spangle calls on me.
    â€œDo I get to be George Washington?” I ask.
    â€œI haven’t assigned parts yet,” Mrs. Spangle says. “Later this week.”
    â€œDon’t make Polka Dot George Washington,” Dennis says when Mrs. Spangle isn’t paying attention.
    â€œStop it, Dennis,” Anya says, because she is my friend and Dennis is not.
    â€œYeah, stop it, Freckle Face,” I echo. “You don’t know anything.” And Dennis pets his Mohawk and sticks his tongue out at me.
    When I get home, I put the invitation for the Presidential Pageant in front of Mom’s nose right away so she cannot miss it. I know if I wait too long, Timmy or the twins will start crying and she will forget. So I hold the paper way high up so it touches the tip of her nose and is right in front of her eyes.
    â€œAre you trying to give me a paper cut?” Mom takes the sheet from my hand and pulls it away from her face.
    â€œYou need to put this on your calendar right now,”