THE BIG BLUEBERRY BARF-OFF!
Breakfast in Bed
Tweet tweet tweet.
My bird alarm clock woke me up gently. I opened my big brown eyes and smiled. Catch those dimples in my cheeks. I always wake up with a smile.
Hey, I'm Bernie Bridges. Why shouldn't I smile?
I had no idea today was the day it would all start. No idea what I'd find when I stepped outside.
No idea that today would lead to the Biggest Pie Battle in the history of the schoolmaybe the WORLD!
How could I know? I was still half-asleep.
I raised my head. I could hear the other guys in my dorm rushing out to the Dining Hall to get breakfast.
Hey, am I going to hurry? No way. I settled back on my feather pillow and smiled some more.
I knew my faithful friend Belzer would bring my breakfast on a tray. Belzer brings me breakfast in bed every morning.
Good kid, Belzer.
I sat up and stretched. "Bernie, you've got it made!" I told myself. I talk to myself a lot. I mean, who else understands pure genius?
I put on my glasses. Sunlight poured through my window. The curtains fluttered in a cool breeze. I gazed at my favorite poster on the wall, the big poster of ME.
You probably go home every day after school. Poor sucker. My parents travel all the time. So they sent me to the Rotten School, my home away from home.
It's a boarding school, see. That means I get to live in a dorm with my friends. No parents.
How cool is that?
Actually, we live in an old house called Rotten House. A whole bunch of my fourth- and fifth-grade friends live on my floor. We claimed the third floor because it's good for dropping water balloons out the window.
Mrs. Heinie doesn't know about that. But she knows just about everything else that goes on here.
Mrs. Heinie is our dorm mother. She's really nice, but she has a job to do. That means she's always snooping around, sniffing in corners, keeping an eye on us.
Mrs. Heinie is also our fourth-grade core teacher. She has her own apartment in the attic.
"Yo, dude," I called out to Belzer as he carried in my breakfast tray.
"Morning, Big B," he said. He's a chubby guy with red hair that falls down over his eyes, and he has freckles everywhere. He set my breakfast tray down and pulled off the cover.
"Good work!" I said, slapping him on the back.
"Hey, thanks, Bernie." He smiled that lopsided smile of his. Anyone can see his braces haven't helped at all.
Maybe I'll adjust them for him later. I'm a wizard with a pair of pliers.
"You're looking sharp today, Belzer," I said.
Belzer was wearing his Rotten School blazer and tie. But under the tie, he wore a white T-shirt with bright red letters that said: ASK ME ABOUT MY ALLERGIES.
I once made the mistake of asking Belzer about his allergies. He said, "I don't have any. I just like the shirt."
I started to eat my breakfast.
"I strained the pulp from your orange juice," Belzer said.
"Good work, dude."
"And I got you extra blueberries for your pancakes."
"Excellent, Belzer. The soft blueberries, right? Not the chewy ones."
"Yeah. I tested each one," Belzer said. "And your toast is just the way you like it."
I picked up a slice of toast and checked it out. "Light on one side, dark on the other. Perfect, Belzer. Good work, fella!"
"Thank you, Big B." He flashed his crooked smile.
I started to dig into the pancakes. I looked up. Two guys stood in the doorway. They were eyeing my breakfast hungrily.
"Well, well. Look who's here!" I said.