It was a bad day.

I remember it all too well - starting with sleeping late...

I woke up at 7:30, suddenly remembering my homework that I had promised to do in the morning. "Oh, no!" I rushed to get clothes on and homework done, but the time went too fast. I showed up in school late, with clothes - but no homework.

I was in fourth grade, and we had a substitute teacher named Miss Joe. I hate substitutes. When I said I didn't have my homework, Miss Joe glared at me and said, "Fine. You'll do it after school."

I shrank into my seat timidly. Some people giggled at me. I hate it when people giggle at me.

As I said, it was a bad day.

At lunch, I spilled barbecue sauce on my new shirt, and you know how hard that is to get off. The chicken in my sandwich fell out of my sandwich and onto the floor. My milk spurted up my nose. Dessert was carrots and celery. I hate carrots and celery. My Mom didn't pack a napkin.

Yes, it was a very bad day.

When we got back from lunch, we talked about discipline. I was talking to my friend, Mikie. "I don't want to be disciplined!" I joked. Silence. "Carol, would you please repeat that?" Silence. "Carol?!" "I don't want to be disciplined." "Go sit outside for 15 minutes, Carol." I hate sitting outside for 15 minutes.

I ran outside, tears streaking my face. As I sat down, the principal, Mr. Aznar, passed, and frowned at me. I hate it when Mr. Aznar frowns at me.

Fine. It was a horrible day.

At recess my friend, Michelle, and I, played on the bars. I hate playing on the bars. "She's not that bad, Carol." "Oh yeah? Then why'd she make me sit outside?" "Because you were talking!" "Fine! Be that way!" I stalked off, losing a friend temporarily.

When I got home I ran to the table, getting my homework out. But: "Carol! The kitten's missing!" "But I fed her this morning!" "Come and help me look!" After an hour of frantic searching, I finally found our kitten, Kitty, asleep under a tree. She yawned and turned over. I rolled my eyes. I hate that feeling.

Then my mom took me to baseball practice. There I got hit by a ball in the stomach, played first base but didn't catch any balls, and got banished to left field. I hate left field.

We had ice cream for dessert that night but I was too full. They should have told me we'd have ice cream!

I went to bed after being tripped by my little brother for the fourth time. I promised myself that I would have a terrific day tomorrow.

The next day...

I get up, yawning, and walk to the bathroom. CRASH! Uh-oh! CRASH! Uh-oh! Oh no! I had stepped on my brother's cymbals. In a unison of 4 other voices - "CCCAAARRROOOLLL!" Uh-oh.

That was an end - and a beginning - of a terrible, horrible, no good very bad day.