EllRay Jakes Rocks the Holidays! Read Free Page B

no go.
    I know Kevin McKinley, though, and I can tell you this much for sure.
    1. He doesn’t care about us supposedly “matching.”
    2. Anyway, we don’t match. He’s a lot taller than I am.
    3. And I don’t think Kevin even cares who his partner is when he helps clean up. Big deal, right?
    4. But I do know he doesn’t like having this talk happen in front of everyone in class. That turned it into a big deal, which is embarrassing for him.
    5. And Kevin hates being embarrassed—worse than anything.
    In fact, he looks like he’s about to start crying.
    And Kevin
never
cries.
    How did this hurt feeling stuff happen? So fast, and out of nothing but spray bottles and cleaning rags?
    I do not know what to do
.
    “This has gotten completely out of hand,” Ms. Sanchez tells us, like we didn’t already know. “But tick-tock, people. We are running out of cleanup time. Kevin, I’m going to ask you to be my special assistant for the afternoon, okay?”
    Like that’s supposed to make everything all better.
    “Aww,” Cynthia and Heather object at the sametime, because sometimes, being Ms. Sanchez’s special assistant means that you get a Hershey’s Kiss when you’re done. And most girls are nuts for chocolate.
    It’s not science, Dad told me once, but it’s true.
    “‘Aww,’ nothing,” Ms. Sanchez says, snapping out the words. “Each of you choose a partner
this minute
. And then each of you head over to the sink right now and grab a spray bottle or a cloth. And do a fabulous job.”
    “HUP! HUP!” Stanley Washington says, starting to march in place.
    “Stanley,” Ms. Sanchez says, warning him.
    “But I meant that in a good way!” Stanley almost yelps.
    And you can tell by his face that he’s telling the truth.
    “Get going, then,” Ms. Sanchez says, laughing. “Start tidying!”

4
A FEW THINGS I’VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT
    “Tell your mom I’m ready to go, buddy,” Dad tells me on Thursday night, the car keys jingling in his hand. “I don’t want to miss a minute of this meeting.”
    Okay. My dad is a big supporter of education,
obviously
, but I think he’s being sarcastic. Having a nice relaxing night at home with the whole family is one of his rules. But tonight, he had to race back early from his college in San Diego and then “bolt down some food,” as he put it, before it was time to leave for the six thirty P.T.A. meeting.
    In other words, he wanted to stay home. But when you’re talking parents and schools, here are a few things I’ve been thinking about. It’s my longest list ever.
    1. Parents are the bosses of kids, and they have lots of rules.
    2. Schools are also the bosses of kids, and they have lots of rules, too. Different rules.
    3. So us kids sometimes get stuck in the middle.
    4. There are many school rules that parents cannot argue with—such as when school starts and finishes, stuff their kids are allowed to wear, and so on.
    5. And there are a few squishier school things—not rules, exactly—that parents usually go along with, whether they deep-down want to or not. Attending P.T.A. meetings and parent-teacher conferences. Sending cans of food to school for food drives. Stuff like that.
    6. So basically, when the parents’ rules and the school’s rules clash, like tonight, the parents usually go along with it for the sake of their kids.
    7. But schools can also be a little nervous around parents, in my opinion. I think it’s like schools never know what is going to set a prickly parent off: grades, skin color, religion, anything involving bringing money from home.
    8. I think that’s why schools usually make us kids be the ones to give the parents some kinds of news—about how we need to bring money for a field trip, or that there’s going to be another parents’ meeting, or that we have been exposed to lice or pinworms and the parents should do something about it. Fast.
    Why
have I been thinking about this so much? Because Alfie’s hair-touching disaster last