Karen's Half-Birthday Read online

  The author gratefully acknowledges

  Stephanie Calmenson

  for her help

  with this book.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  1 Freeze Tag

  2 I’m No Baby!

  3 House Switchers

  4 Teasing

  5 Karen’s Letter

  6 Apologies

  7 A Lovely Ladies Tea Party

  8 Karen’s Good Idea

  9 May I Have a Party?

  10 Invitations

  11 The Decision

  12 Party Plans

  13 Making Costumes

  14 Getting Ready

  15 Grumpy Guests

  16 Not-So-Goody Bags

  17 Half Day

  18 Karen’s Apology

  19 The Dinosaur Solution

  20 Trick-or-Treat!

  About the Author

  Also Available

  Copyright

  Freeze Tag

  “Freeze!” I called.

  I was playing freeze tag on the playground at recess. I tagged my best friend, Nancy Dawes. She froze in her place. I had not tagged my other best friend, Hannie Papadakis, yet. She was on her way to set Nancy free. I caught Hannie just in time.

  “Freeze!” I called.

  She froze with both arms out in front of her. She looked like a scary monster.

  Hannie, Nancy, and I are best friends. We are in the same second-grade class at Stoneybrook Academy. We play together all the time. That is why we call ourselves the Three Musketeers.

  I am Karen Brewer. I have blonde hair, blue eyes, and a bunch of freckles. I wear glasses. I have a blue pair for reading and a pink pair for the rest of the time. I am seven years old. Most of the kids in my class are seven and a half. Some of them are even turning eight.

  Speaking of classmates, it was time for me to tag a few more.

  “Freeze!” I called again.

  This time I tagged my pretend husband, Ricky Torres. (We were married on the playground one day.) He froze in a funny running position.

  I was doing a very good job of being “It.” I had tagged Natalie Springer when she stopped to pull up her droopy socks; Bobby Gianelli, who used to be a bully sometimes, but is not anymore; Pamela Harding, my best enemy; Pamela’s buddies, Jannie Gilbert and Leslie Morris; and Addie Sydney, who is fast in her wheelchair, but not fast enough to beat me!

  I heard someone giggling behind me. I reached out and tagged whoever it was. When I turned around I saw Terri Barkan frozen in place. Her twin sister, Tammy, was coming to save her. I ran after Tammy but she got away.

  Ding, ding! The school bell rang. Too bad. It was a warm fall day and I liked being outside. Then I remembered that I like being inside, too. That is because I have a gigundoly wonderful teacher named Ms. Colman. She always does interesting things and never shouts or gets angry. Sometimes, when I get too noisy, she has to remind me to use my indoor voice. But she always reminds me gently.

  I sat down at my desk and waited to see what Ms. Colman had planned for us. I sit in the front row with Ricky and Natalie. That is because the three of us are glasses wearers and Ms. Colman says we can see better up front. (Ms. Colman is a glasses wearer, too.)

  Before I got my glasses, I sat at the back of the room with Hannie and Nancy. Now I turned around and waved to them.

  “All right, class, please settle down,” said Ms. Colman.

  I looked around the room. Everyone looked settled down. Except for me. I was the only one facing the wrong way. I turned to the front of the room and smiled at Ms. Colman. I was ready for the afternoon to begin.

  I’m No Baby!

  When I got home after school on Wednesday, my little brother, Andrew, was in the kitchen having a snack. Andrew is four going on five. He is in preschool, and he always gets home before me.

  “Hi, Karen!” said Andrew with a mouthful of cinnamon toast and cream cheese.

  “Hi, honey,” said Mommy. “How was school today?”

  “It was good,” I replied.

  “Come wash up and join us,” Mommy said.

  I washed my hands, then sat down at the table for my snack.

  “Do you have any homework?” Mommy asked.

  “Nope. None tonight,” I replied.

  “I do! I have homework,” said Andrew proudly. “I have to bring something to school that begins with the letter c.”

  “That’s baby homework,” I said.

  “It is not! It is real homework and I’m no baby,” said Andrew.

  He gave me a meanie-mo look. Lately he did not like being the baby in the house. (At the big house our sister, Emily, is the baby so Andrew does not feel so bad.)

  “All right, you are not a baby,” I said.

  I finished my snack in a hurry, then went outside to play with my friends. Andrew was right behind me.

  Some kids were already in the tree house in our backyard. The tree house is really cool. My friends and I made it by ourselves. (Well, we had a little help from Seth, my stepfather. He happens to be an excellent carpenter.)

  “We are making believe the tree house is a movie theater,” said Nancy.

  “I am selling the tickets,” said Jackie Barton, who is seven.

  “I am selling the popcorn and soda,” said Kathryn, who is six.

  “I want to buy a ticket and popcorn and soda, too!” said Andrew.

  “You are too little to go to the movies by yourself,” said Jackie. “Little kids need to be accompanied by an adult.”

  This time Andrew gave Jackie his meaniemo look.

  “Come on, I will take you to the movies,” I said.

  “No way. I’m no baby!” said Andrew.

  He went off to play with Jackie’s little sister, Meghan, who is four. She was collecting rocks near the tree house.

  Then Bobby Gianelli and his sister, Alicia, showed up. They live down the street. Alicia is Andrew’s age and they are friends.

  So the big kids went to the movies up in the tree house while the little kids stayed down below.

  When we got tired of our make-believe movie, we played freeze tag with the little kids. Nancy was “It” first.

  We were still playing when Seth came home from work. He was carrying a bag of groceries. I ran to him and tagged him.

  “Freeze!” I said.

  He stopped in his tracks.

  “You better unfreeze me soon,” he said. “Otherwise the ice cream I have in this bag is going to melt. That means no dessert tonight.”

  “Unfreeze! Unfreeze!” I called.

  I tapped him again to unfreeze him. Then my friends and I said good-bye and headed to our houses for supper.

  House Switchers

  At the little house Andrew is the baby. At the big house he is not. I will tell you how we came to have two houses.

  When I was little like Andrew, and when Andrew was even little than he is now, we lived in one big house with Mommy and Daddy. Then Mommy and Daddy started to fight a lot. They tried their best to get along, but they just could not. So they told Andrew and me that they loved us very much and always would. But they did not want to live with each other anymore. After that they got a divorce.

  Mommy moved with Andrew and me to the little house, which is not too far away from the big house in Stoneybrook, Connecticut. Then she met Seth. They got married. That is how Seth became my step-father. So now at the little house are Andrew, Mommy, Seth, me, and our pets. The pets are Midgie, Seth’s dog; Rocky, Seth’s cat; Emily Junior, my pet rat; and Bob, Andrew’s hermit crab.

  Daddy stayed at the big house after the divorce. (It is the house he grew up in.) He met Elizabeth and they got married. So Elizabeth is my stepmother. She has four kids from her fi
rst marriage. They are my step-sister and stepbrothers. They are Kristy, who is thirteen and the best stepsister in the whole world; David Michael, who is seven (he is an older seven than me); and Sam and Charlie, who are so old they are in high school.

  You already know that Emily Michelle is the baby of the big house. She is two and a half. Daddy and Elizabeth adopted her from a faraway country called Vietnam. I love her a lot. That is why I named my pet rat after her.

  Nannie lives at the big house, too. Nannie is Elizabeth’s mother. That makes her my stepgrandmother. She came to help take care of Emily. But really she takes care of everyone.

  There are lots of pets at the big house, too. They are Shannon, David Michael’s big Bernese mountain dog puppy; Boo-Boo, Daddy’s cranky old tabby cat; Crystal Light the Second, my goldfish; and Goldfishie, Andrew’s pony (ha!). Emily Junior and Bob live at the big house, too, whenever Andrew and I are there.

  Andrew and I switch houses every month — one month we live at the little house, the next month at the big house.

  I have a special name for us. I call us Andrew Two-Two and Karen Two-Two. (I got that idea when my teacher read a book to our class. It was called Jacob Two-Two Meets the Hooded Fang.) I call us two-twos because we have two of so many things. We have two houses and two families, two mommies and two daddies, two cats and two dogs. We have two sets of clothes and toys and books, one at each house. I have two stuffed cats. Goosie is my little-house cat. Moosie is my big-house cat. And, of course, there are my two best friends — Nancy, who lives next door to the little house and Hannie, who lives across the street and one house down from the big house.

  Having two of so many things makes it easier to go back and forth. Big house to little house. Little house to big house. Big to little. Little to big.

  It used to get confusing sometimes. But it hardly does anymore. Andrew and I are very good house switchers now.

  Teasing

  It was Friday morning and Ms. Colman had not arrived yet. The kids in my class were talking about a new TV show they had watched the night before. It was called Friends and Company.

  “It was so funny when that man, Lucas, walked out of the house in his pajamas,” said Addie, giggling.

  “They were goofy pajamas, too,” said Omar Harris. “They were about three sizes too big on him.”

  “How about when Lucas’s dog tripped him and he landed in the mud puddle!” said Hannie. “I was laughing so hard.”

  Everyone had something to say about the show. I tried to look interested. I tried to smile when they said funny things. But I had not seen the show. I was not allowed to watch it because it comes on after my bedtime. I felt gigundoly left out. I hoped no one would notice.

  “I wonder what will happen next week,” said Jannie.

  “Hey, Karen, you are awfully quiet,” said Pamela. “Didn’t you like the show?”

  Boo and bullfrogs. Now you know why Pamela is my best enemy.

  “I did not see it,” I said.

  “Why not?” asked Ricky. “It is really good.”

  “Um … our TV broke yesterday,” I replied.

  “You should have called me,” said Nancy. “You could have watched it at my house.”

  “Thanks. I will come over next week to watch if the TV is still broken,” I said.

  I was glad when the kids started talking about something else. I walked to the back of the room with Nancy and Hannie. I wanted to tell my best friends the truth. I knew my secret would be safe with them.

  “My TV is not really broken,” I whispered. “I was not allowed to watch the show because it comes on after my bedtime.”

  Just then, I noticed Jannie nearby. About two seconds later, I saw her whispering to Pamela and Leslie. They started to giggle.

  “What a baby!” said Pamela loudly enough for everyone to hear.

  “Who is a baby?” asked Terri.

  “Karen is,” replied Pamela. “She could not watch Friends and Company because it is on past her eentsy weentsy bedtime.”

  “Is that for real, Karen?” asked Bobby. “I cannot believe it!”

  “Yes, it is for real. Big deal,” I said.

  “What time do you have to go to sleep?” asked Pamela. “Seven o’clock? Six o’clock? Five o’clock?”

  Leslie looked at her watch. “Oops! It is Karen’s naptime!” she said.

  “Did you bring your baby bottle?” asked Jannie.

  “Ha, ha. You are so funny,” I said.

  “Karen is the class baby! Karen is the class baby!” teased Hank Reubens.

  I did not know what to say to Hank because he was right. I am the baby in the class. Some kids were already eight and some would be turning eight soon. The rest of the kids were seven and a half. I was the only one who was just plain seven.

  “Good morning, everyone,” said Ms. Colman.

  Thank goodness. Now everyone would have to go to their seats and be quiet.

  I do not like being the youngest one in the class. And I do not like being teased. I felt like crying. But I could not do that. No way. If I did, I knew just what the kids would say. They would say, “Crybaby, crybaby! Put your finger in your eye, baby!”

  Karen’s Letter

  I was still feeling bad when lunchtime came. I sat between Hannie and Nancy way off in a corner of the cafeteria. The Three Musketeers were sticking together. One for all and all for one. That is our motto.

  “The kids were mean,” said Hannie. “Especially Pamela.”

  “She thinks she is so funny sometimes,” said Nancy.

  “Well, I do not think she is one bit funny,” I replied.

  I could hardly eat my lunch. I was too upset. I pushed the food around on the plate. (I did manage to eat a cream-filled cookie.)

  “Want to play outside?” asked Hannie when we finished lunch.

  “I guess,” I replied.

  I did not really want to go outside. I was afraid the kids would start teasing me again. I followed Hannie and Nancy slowly. I needed to think. By the time I reached the playground I had an idea.

  “I’ll catch up to you later!” I called.

  I walked back to our classroom. I peeked in. Ms. Colman was not there. The room was empty. Good.

  I went to the blackboard and picked up a piece of chalk. I stood there for a minute thinking some more. Then I began to write. I wrote and wrote. By the time I was finished, the blackboard was covered. This is what I had written:

  I took a few steps back and read my letter. It was excellent if I did say so myself. And I was pretty sure I had spelled every word right. That is not bad for the class baby.

  I put the chalk back and hurried out to the playground. I found Hannie and Nancy at the monkey bars. Just as I got there, the bell rang. It was time to go back inside. Oh, well. I had missed recess, but I did not mind. I felt much better now that my letter was written.

  When we walked into the room, Ms. Colman and the kids noticed the letter right away. (It was hard to miss since it covered the entire blackboard.)

  “Everyone take your seats, please,” said Ms. Colman. “This letter looks important. I would like to read it out loud.”

  The kids settled down at their desks to listen. I was feeling a little squirmy myself. I could tell I was blushing, too. My cheeks felt warm. I tried to sit still as Ms. Colman began to read.

  “Dear classmates,

  “I think you were very mean to tease me. Teasing is not a nice thing to do …”

  Ms. Colman read every word of my letter. There was not a sound in the room.

  Apologies

  “Thank you for this letter, Karen. It is not always easy to share our feelings,” said Ms. Colman. “Now could somebody tell me why Karen wrote this letter?”

  The class told Ms. Colman what had happened that morning.

  “I think this would be a good time to talk about teasing and how it can make a person feel,” Ms. Colman said. “There is a saying you probably all know. It goes, ‘Sticks and stones may break my bones, b
ut names will never hurt me.’ Do you think that saying is true?”

  My pretend husband, Ricky, was the first to raise his hand.

  “Names cannot break your bones or anything. But they can hurt your feelings a lot,” he said.

  “Yes, they can,” Ms. Colman replied. “That is why I am truly disappointed to find out that some of you have been teasing. I thought you were old enough — and kind enough — to know better.”

  Tammy raised her hand. Ms. Colman called on her.

  “I want to apologize to Karen for hurting her feelings. We thought we were being funny, but we were not,” said Tammy.

  “I apologize, too,” said Natalie.

  “Me, too,” said Hank.

  I smiled at the kids who apologized. I thought that was very nice of them.

  Just then, we heard a knock at the door. It was Mr. Mackey, the art teacher. I had forgotten all about our afternoon art class. I love art!

  “Hello, everyone,” said Mr. Mackey. “Am I interrupting anything?”

  “We were just having a talk about teasing people,” said Ms. Colman.

  “Being teased is no fun,” said Mr. Mackey. “If you want to have fun, I say make a collage. I have everything you need right here in my cart.”

  Mr. Mackey is so nice. He wheeled his art cart into the room. It was filled with great stuff — paint, crayons, colored paper, glue, yarn, glitter, and pipe cleaners.

  We took turns getting supplies from the cart. I took a little bit of everything, then went back to my desk and got to work. I was in the middle of pasting glitter on my collage when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

  I turned around and saw Pamela, Jannie, and Leslie. They were each holding out a paper flower.

  “We are sorry we hurt your feelings,” said Pamela.

  I could hardly believe it. My best enemy was apologizing.

  “Thanks,” I replied. “The flowers are very pretty.”

  I went back to work on my collage. The next thing I knew, Natalie was putting a package of smiley face stickers on my desk.

  “They are from Addie,” she said.

  I looked at Addie. She smiled and waved.