Diary of a Wimpy Kid

Dear Diary, I woke up cozy in my blanket. My little brother shouted with his mouth full of cereal, "Mmm-mmm, Greg! Come see!" I tiptoed in to be a big hero, slipped on a rogue banana peel, and landed in a flurry of socks. Mom peeked around the corner with her hair in a messy bun and asked, "Are you okay?" I lied, "Totally fine," and shuffled my sock-covered feet like a penguin.

At breakfast I tried to be brave, but the milk sprayed and my cereal did a flip. "Whoosh!" milk went everywhere and even the dog got his breakfast because Mom laughed, "Well, at least the dog gets breakfast too!" The dog's tail wagged so hard it looked like he might fly.

On the way to school my backpack zipper ripped open and my homework flew out like confetti into a puddle. I yelled, "Noooo!" Mrs. Patel smiled and said, "Spirited entrance, Greg," like spilled homework was a performance.

At recess I planned to score one goal in soccer, but when I kicked the ball it clonked off a bench and landed on Principal Gomez's hat. Everyone laughed like a carnival while Principal Gomez said, "Return to your playgrounds, young athletes."

During art class we made papier-mâché planets and I wanted mine to be the sun. Someone bumped the drying shelf and my sun rolled into the paint tray, turning into a polka-dot swamp. Ms. Rivera said, "It’s modern art," with a sigh.

At my friend Sam's house we built the biggest toy car ramp. I pushed my car and SPLAT it hit a puddle and shot into the sprinkler, turning our ramp into a tiny waterpark. Sam and I laughed until we had hiccups that sounded like tiny frogs.

At dinner Dad tried flipping pancakes and one puffed up and flew to the ceiling, sticking there like a moon. We all pointed and giggled while Dad made a pancake ladder to get it down and said, "I should stick to toast."

Before bed Mom knocked with a flashlight and a stack of clean socks. She asked, "You ok, champ?" I said, "I think I'm just... a walking oops today." Mom sat on the edge of my bed and told funny stories about her childhood and Dad's paint mistake, and I felt better.

I pulled the blanket up, thought about my silly disasters, and closed my diary with a grin and a doodle of a wobbly penguin. I decided it was okay to wobble sometimes. Goodnight, diary. Love, Greg