Karen's Tea Party Page 2

  It was Sunday morning. One and a half days to Mr. Peabody’s school. I looked at my dress hanging on my door. I looked at the new white gloves and pearl hair clip on my dresser. I was ready for a party and dancing. I could not wait until Monday. I had to do something fancy now.

  I knew just the thing. I ran downstairs to ask Mommy. I was so excited, I could not stop talking.

  “Mommy, may I use the phone? I want to call Nancy. I want to invite her to a tea party. May I have a tea party? I want it to be very special. I want to make cookies. Do we have chocolate chips? I will make chocolate chippies!”

  “Whoa, Karen. You better slow down or you will be too tired to make anything,” said Mommy. “Here are the answers to your questions. Yes, you may use the phone. Yes, you may have a tea party. And yes, we have chocolate chips.”

  “Hurray!” I cried. I called Nancy. She said she would come over at three.

  I invited Andrew, Goosie, Rocky, Midgie, and Hyacynthia, the special English baby doll that I share with Nancy. They all said they could come.

  Mommy was in the kitchen. She was getting out everything I needed to bake cookies.

  “Thanks, Mommy. But I want to make the cookies by myself,” I announced.

  “I guess that will be all right,” agreed Mommy. “But I must be in the kitchen when you use the oven.”

  “I promise to call when I need you,” I said, shooing Mommy out the door.

  I picked up the bag of chocolate chips. Just as I had hoped, the directions were on the back. I was sure they would be better than the directions on the rice box. (Someday I would finish that letter to the rice company.)

  The first thing I had to do was preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

  “Mommy, I need you!” I called. Mommy came back to turn on the oven. Then I shooed her out again.

  The rest looked easy. I had to mix together butter, sugar, eggs, vanilla, flour, salt, baking soda, and chocolate chips. There were no hard words. And there were no secret codes.

  It took awhile, but I put everything in exactly the way the package said. Then I did one special thing. I squirted in some liquid brown sugar. That way my tea party cookies would be extra sweet.

  I was ready to spoon the batter onto the cookie sheet. Hmm. The batter looked a little soupy. The chocolate chips stayed where they were, but everything else ran together. It was cookie soup!

  “Mommy! I need you,” I called.

  Mommy came back into the kitchen.

  “Yes?” she said.

  “Would you turn the oven off, please? I have decided to serve milk and crackers at my party,” I explained.

  Mommy looked at the baking sheet. It was a runny cookie mess.

  “I think crackers are a good idea,” said Mommy. And she turned the oven off.

  “No Burping Allowed!”

  “Will you button up my dress, Mommy?” I asked.

  “Will you fix my tie?” asked Andrew.

  We were almost ready for my tea party. Mommy let me wear my new dress and hair clip. (I decided to save my gloves for my first day at Mr. Peabody’s.)

  It wasn’t easy, but I got Andrew to put on a suit and tie. (He said I owed him a big favor now. He even made me write it down on a piece of paper so I would not forget.)

  Ding-dong.

  “I will get it!” I called.

  It was Nancy. She looked beautiful. Almost as beautiful as me. She was wearing a light blue dress with a matching hair ribbon. She was carrying a white pocketbook with blue polka dots. She was also carrying something wrapped in pretty paper.

  “Hi, Karen. This is for you,” said Nancy.

  I opened the package. It was a jar of grape jelly.

  “Thank you so much,” I said in my most lovely lady voice. “This will be quite tasty on our crackers.”

  I hurried Nancy into the kitchen. I could hardly wait for her to see the table I had set.

  My best flowery tea set was at the big house. But Mommy said I could use some of her old china. It was chipped but very pretty. And at every place was a Pooh Bear napkin.

  My other guests looked great, too. Hyacynthia was wearing the beaded necklace Nancy had made for her. Goosie was wearing one of Andrew’s ties. Midgie was wearing a red scarf. I even put a party hat on Rocky.

  “Andrew! We are ready,” I called. I could not figure out what he was up to. He had spent half the morning in his room with the door closed. He said he was practicing something. But he would not tell me what it was.

  Finally, Andrew came downstairs.

  “Hi. Where’s the duck food?” he said.

  “What duck food? This is a tea party,” I said.

  “I thought you were having quackers and milk. Get it? Crackers? Quackers?” Andrew was slapping the table and laughing.

  Nancy was laughing, too. Didn’t they know this was a serious tea party?

  Then I brought out the milk and crackers and jelly.

  Midgie tried to steal a cracker. Rocky jumped on the table and almost spilled the milk.

  “Where are your manners?” I said. I asked them both to leave the party.

  Everything was going nicely after that until …

  Urrrrp!

  “I did it!” cried Andrew. “I burped on purpose.”

  “Is that what you were practicing upstairs?” I said.

  “Yup,” said Andrew proudly. “Sam taught me.”

  For some reason, Nancy thought this was hysterical.

  “No burping allowed,” I said. “And no laughing at burping, either.”

  “Sorry,” said Nancy. “Would you pass the — ”

  Urrrp!

  “An-drew!” I shouted.

  “I have to practice or I will forget,” said Andrew.

  Nancy was laughing so hard she tipped her chair back and fell over. I could tell she was not hurt.

  “I said no burping. And no tipping over chairs! Doesn’t anybody around here have any manners?”

  “We are just having fun,” said Nancy.

  “You can have fun and good manners, too,” I said.

  “I am going to Mr. Peabody’s school next year. I will have better manners then,” said Nancy.

  “Well, I cannot wait that long,” I said. “I am starting Mr. Peabody’s school tomorrow. I am going to teach you everything I know. And you, too, Andrew.”

  Urrrp!

  The School of Charm

  “See you later, Mommy!” I called. I swished up the steps of Mr. Peabody’s School of Dance and Charm in my beautiful new dress.

  “Hi, Karen,” said a familiar voice.

  It was Ricky Torres. Ricky is my pretend husband. We got married once at school. He is a pretty good husband — most of the time.

  “This is so cool,” I said. “I did not know you were signed up for Mr. Peabody’s.”

  “A lot of kids from our class are here,” said Ricky.

  I looked around. The room was huge and filled with kids. I saw David Michael. He did not look happy.

  I waved to Hannie and her brother, Linny. And Scott Hsu. He is Hannie’s pretend husband. I knew both of them would be here.

  But I did not know Natalie Springer had signed up. Or Hank Reubens. Or Bobby Gianelli. They are in my class, too.

  Yuck-o! Pamela Harding and her friends Leslie Morris and Jannie Gilbert walked in. Pamela is my least favorite person at school.

  “Welcome, everyone,” said a man standing by a piano. “I am Mr. Peabody. And these are my assistants — my lovely wife, Mrs. Peabody, and my son, Martin.”

  The Peabodys were all dressed up like the rest of us. Even Martin, who looked about Kristy’s age.

  “We will begin our class by teaching the boys how to invite a girl to dance,” said Mr. Peabody.

  All of a sudden, the boys were moving. Backwards. Away from the girls.

  “It is really very simple,” continued Mr. Peabody. “Walk up to a girl, look in her eyes, and say, ‘May I have this dance?’ ”

  “Girls, the polite answer is, ‘Yes, you may,’
” said Mrs. Peabody.

  “While you are dancing, compliment your partner,” said Mr. Peabody. “Say, ‘My, you are a good dancer.’ ”

  “To accept a compliment, just say, ‘Thank you,’” added Mrs. Peabody.

  I raised my hand and called, “I thought you were supposed to say, ‘Charmed, I’m sure.’”

  “A simple thank you will do,” said Mr. Peabody. “Now we will begin with a dance called the lindy. Martin will play the piano for us. Martin?”

  Martin bowed and started to play. I liked the music. It made me want to dance. I just had to learn how.

  “Sway your body forward and back, like this,” said Mr. Peabody. “Now, watch my feet. Toe, heel. Toe, heel. Step. Step.”

  I was in the front with Natalie and Hannie and some girls I did not know. We were following Mr. and Mrs. Peabody. Toe, heel. Toe, heel. Step. Step.

  A few boys were dancing. But most of them looked like they were glued to the wall. Didn’t they know this was fun?

  We practiced by ourselves for awhile. Then Mr. Peabody said. “Boys, it is time to ask a girl to dance.”

  I knew Ricky would ask me. But he was not exactly running to me. And when he reached me, he talked so low and so fast, I could hardly understand him. It sounded like he said, “Maythisdance?”

  “Charmed, I’m sure,” I replied. (I liked that even if Mr. Peabody didn’t.)

  I put one hand on Ricky’s shoulder. He put one hand on my waist. (I could tell he did not want to.) We held our other hands. (His was cold and sweaty. I could feel it even through my glove.)

  We started to dance. Toe, heel. Toe, heel. Step. Step. Toe, heel. Toe, heel. Step. Step.

  Most of the girls were bouncing and swaying, like me. Most of the boys were staring at the ground and grumbling, like Ricky. I wished he would try to have some fun.

  Oh, well. I loved the lindy. And I loved Mr. Peabody’s School of Dance and Charm even if Ricky Torres did not. I could hardly wait for my next lesson.

  “May I Have This Dance?”

  Toe, heel. Toe, heel. Step. Step.

  I was at the back of Ms. Colman’s room practicing the lindy with Hannie and Natalie. Nancy was at the end of our line, trying to follow us. Pamela and Leslie were practicing at the other side of the room.

  Ms. Colman had not come in yet, so I turned to Hannie and said, “May I have this dance?”

  “Yes, you may,” said Hannie, just the way Mr. and Mrs. Peabody had taught us.

  I curtsied. Hannie bowed. (I did not know whether you were supposed to do that for a lindy. But we did it anyway.)

  We needed some music, so I made up a tune.

  “Da-da, da-da, da-da-da! Da-da, da-da, da!” I sang.

  We danced around the room and between the desks. It was gigundoly fun! Until the boys started saying dumb things.

  “Toe, heel. Big deal!” called Hank Reubens.

  I stuck my nose in the air as I passed him.

  “Toe, heel. Get real!” called Bobby Gianelli.

  Then I noticed Ricky pointing at my feet. I looked down to see just what he was pointing at and missed my step. I stomped on Hannie’s foot.

  “Ow!” cried Hannie.

  Ricky and the other boys thought that was so funny, they could hardly stop laughing.

  “Didn’t you learn anything about manners yesterday?” I asked. I gave Ricky a dirty look. I expected more from my own husband.

  “I learned some manners,” said Hank. “Listen to this!”

  Hank snorted like a pig. Bobby mooed like a cow. And Ricky said, “Hee-haw, hee-haw!”

  “Can’t these boys take anything seriously?” said Hannie.

  “I don’t think so,” I replied. “I just hope they do not act dumb next Monday at Mr. Peabody’s class. They will ruin everything.”

  “May I Have These Pants?”

  T.G.I.M. Thank goodness it’s Monday!

  I raced through the doors of Mr. Peabody’s school. It probably would have been better manners to walk in slowly. But Mr. Peabody had not said so. Yet.

  “Hi, Hannie! Hi, Natalie,” I called.

  We were on one side of the room. The boys were all the way on the other.

  “Welcome, class,” said Mr. Peabody. “We are going to begin with a lesson in the art of conversation. I have noticed that many of you, particularly the boys, stand away from others and do not speak.”

  David Michael was way over in a corner of the room. He started shuffling his feet.

  “It is good manners to make pleasant conversation when in the company of others,” Mr. Peabody continued. “You might start by saying, ‘Hello, it is nice to see you.’ Or you can begin with a compliment. Say, ‘I like your dress.’ Or ‘I like your suit.’ ”

  “Does anyone have another suggestion?” asked Mrs. Peabody.

  I did. I raised my hand to show my good manners. Mrs. Peabody pointed to me.

  “You could talk about the weather,” I said. “Like you could say, ‘How about that hurricane last night?’ ”

  “Talking about the weather is very good,” said Mrs. Peabody.

  “And now,” said Mr. Peabody, “we will review the lindy. Martin, will you play something for us?”

  Martin bowed, then started to play.

  I had been practicing the lindy all week long. I did not miss one step.

  “Very good, class. We are ready to learn the waltz,” said Mr. Peabody.

  “Oooooh!” I said. That sounded fancy. I was glad I was wearing my fancy party dress.

  “Please pay careful attention. The first step is most important,” said Mr. Peabody. “One, two, three. One, two, three. Watch … my … feet. Watch … my … feet.”

  He took Mrs. Peabody in his arms. They danced the waltz together. It was gigundoly romantic.

  “One, two, three. One, two, three,” he said.

  I followed his steps.

  “One, two, three. One, two, three,” I repeated.

  “And now with music. Martin?” said Mr. Peabody.

  When Martin started playing, I said, “Hey, I know this.” I hummed along. It was the music they play at the skating rink.

  I closed my eyes and counted. One, two, three. One, two, three.

  “Now it is time to dance with a partner,” said Mr. Peabody.

  I was glad to see Ricky walking toward me a lot faster than he had before. But this strange smile was on his face.

  “May I have these pants?” he said. He looked behind him to make sure the Peabodys did not hear.

  “Ricky! That is just plain dumb,” I whispered.

  Hannie was next to me. I heard Scott say, “I am glad you are wearing those gloves, Hannie. Now I do not have to worry so much about girl cooties.”

  I wanted to say something mean. But I didn’t do it. The boys could have bad manners if they wanted.

  But not me.

  Karen the Teacher

  “Boys! They make me so mad,” I said.

  “I am a boy. Do I make you mad?” asked Andrew.

  “Not this minute. But I bet you will soon,” I said.

  “Now, Karen, that is not fair,” said Mommy.

  I was in the kitchen having a snack after Mr. Peabody’s class.

  “Mommy, can I ask Nancy to come over? I want to teach her what I learned at school. And Andrew, too,” I said.

  “It is all right with me if it is all right with Mrs. Dawes,” said Mommy.

  I called Nancy. She said she would come right over. Mommy helped me move chairs out of the way in the living room. We needed plenty of room for dancing.

  Ding-dong.

  “Hi, Karen! Hi, Andrew,” said Nancy.

  “Hello, Nancy,” I said. “You showed very good manners when you said hello to everyone in the room. Now before we begin our dancing lesson, you and Andrew should have a pleasant conversation. You should think of a compliment to say. Or talk about the weather.”

  “Can’t we just start dancing?” asked Nancy.

  “No, we cannot. Mr. Peabody says polite
conversation is very important,” I said.

  “Oh, all right,” said Nancy. She turned to Andrew. “How is the weather?”

  “Okay. I like your shoes,” said Andrew.

  “Thank you. Now can we start dancing?” said Nancy.

  “That was a very nice conversation,” I said. “We will now learn the lindy. Watch my feet.”

  I hummed my lindy song and did a few steps.

  Hmm-hmm, hmm-hmm, hmm, hmm!

  “Follow me,” I said. “Toe, heel. Toe, heel. Step. Step. Toe, heel. Toe, heel. Step. Step. Got it?”

  “Toe, heel. Heel and toe. Step. What?” asked Nancy.

  “Nancy, you were not watching closely enough. Please try again,” I said.

  “I was too watching,” said Nancy. “I just forgot.”

  “I cannot do this,” moaned Andrew.

  I repeated the steps very slowly.

  Toe, heel. Toe, heel. Step. Step.

  I kept doing it until Nancy and Andrew each did it right once.

  “Time for partners!” I called. “Andrew, walk up to Nancy, look her in the eyes, and say, ‘May I have this dance?’ ”

  Andrew did it perfectly.

  “Great,” I told him. “Now, you put this hand on her waist here and — ”

  “No way. I am not touching a girl!” said Andrew.

  He stomped out of the room. I threw my hands in the air.

  “Can you believe that?” I said. “He is such a silly baby.”

  “Boys are so rude. They never cooperate,” said Nancy.

  “They are just awful. They will not do anything,” I added.

  “They are big spoilsports,” agreed Nancy.

  “Boys,” I said. “They make me so mad!”

  Pig

  It was Monday afternoon. I was at dance class number three.

  Metal folding chairs were lined up around the room. I looked to see who had arrived. I saw Hannie. And Natalie. I saw Pamela. And Leslie. But I did not see Ricky.

  That is strange, I thought. Ricky was at school today. And I was sure I saw him in the coatroom with Bobby and Hank when I first reached Mr. Peabody’s. He must be here somewhere.

  I was still looking for Ricky when Mr. Peabody said, “Welcome, everyone. We are going to begin today by learning the proper way to sit.”