Attack of the Mutant Underwear by Tom Birdseye Page A

stomped off the court. When I started to go after her, Zach said, “Let her be!” Libby looked daggers at all of us, but particularly me. “Jerks!” she said, then marched after Amy.
    I know I should have said more. I know I should have gone after Amy and Libby, no matter what Zach said. But he threw me the ball and said, “C’mon, let’s play!” And that’s what I did—play.
    For the rest of the day, neither Amy nor Libby would even look at me, much less speak. Every now and then Libby would act like she was coughing and say, “Jerk!” under her breath. Looks like I’ve gone from between a rock and a hard place to the Old Me doghouse.
    Saturday, December 16
    Woke up this morning thinking about Amy being mad at me. Headed for the shower. It’s a good place to solve problems. Ideas come raining down on my brain along with all that hot water. I’d have this figured out in no time.
    But MC was headed for the shower, too. As bad luck would have it, we got to the bathroom door at exactly the same time.
    MC said, “I get the shower first.”
    I said, “No, I do.”
    â€œBut I stink!”
    â€œI stink worse!”
    â€œNo, I do!”
    â€œNo, I do!”
    â€œNO, I DO!”
    Mom called from the bottom of the stairs: “What’s going on up there?”
    It was useless. I said to MC, “Okay, you’re right. You stink.”
    MC glared at me. “Mom, Cody said I stink!”
    Like I said, useless.
    So now I’m back in bed, leaning against my pillow while MC takes her shower. By the time I get in there, all the good ideas will be gone, along with the hot water. Which is why I still haven’t figured out how to get on Amy’s good side again.
    New ace-brilliant-type-Question-Man survey topic: little sisters. Just two questions:
    â€”Do you have one?
    â€”How many times a day do you consider locking her in a closet for the rest of her life?
    Sunday, December 17
    Got our Christmas tree this afternoon. Cut it at one of the Christmas tree farms outside of town. It’s a nice one, taller than Dad.
    When we got it home, Mom put on Christmas music and we pulled all the decorations out of the attic. It took at least an hour to get the lights untangled and strung. And at least that much more to hang all the ornaments. By the time we finished, it was almost dark outside. We turned off all the lights in the living room and then plugged in the tree.
    â€œIt’s so pretty!” MC said, jumping up and down.
    Mom put her hand to her mouth. “Absolutely beautiful!”
    â€œOur best tree ever,” Dad said, just like he says every year.
    I was about to agree with Dad—that’s what I do every year—when I noticed Emma crouched on the back of the armchair with a weird look in her eye. “Emma, no!” I yelled.
    But it was too late. She’d already attacked. Attacked the Christmas tree. Which went crashing over onto the floor.
    Dad cussed. Mom cried. MC said, “Why do we have a cat, anyway?” So now I have another ace-brilliant-type-Question-Man survey topic: cats. My questions:
    â€”Why do people have cats, anyway?
    â€”What’s the most irritating thing your cat has ever done? (Besides knocking over your Christmas tree. That’s already taken.)
    Monday, December 18
    Tried an experiment today. I was wondering if chocolate can increase brainpower. So I bought a chocolate bar from myself. Then I ate it, and just like that, I knew what to get Amy for Christmas. I could buy her the rest of the chocolate bars (four, I think). That would be a really cool gift.
    So there you have it! My conclusion: People think better after eating chocolate. Am I a genius, or what?
    And I did it without a shower.
    Later, Monday, December 18
    What was I thinking? A Christmas present? Amy is Jewish!
    Tuesday, December 19
    Today at recess a kid in third grade kissed a girl on the playground because someone bet