Middle School: Get Me Out of Here! (17 page)

S
o if I told you that by Christmas break I was ready to jump back into Operation: Get a Life, would you think I was crazy? Stupid? Really, really forgetful? Let me explain.

The way I saw it, I had a kind of technicality on my hands. Technically, the mission was in a time-out when I got that suspension. So technically, I wasn’t required to call
GAME OVER
.

In fact, the more I thought about it, the more it seemed obvious. Everything had been way better—not perfect, but better—right up until I called that time-out in the first place. That’s when I started messing everything up.

It was time to get back to Getting a Life.

And of course, I didn’t have to ask Leo twice. The conversation went something like this:

That just left the little complication of me being grounded (until further notice). We were going to have to figure out a way to come up with all new stuff without ever leaving Killarney Avenue.

But between me and Leo, I was pretty sure we could think of something. Like Mom always says—it just takes a little imagination. And if there’s one thing both Leo and I have, it’s that.

So let’s just call this next part—

I
’m not saying all the stuff Leo and I came up with over break is going to put me in some kind of Hall of Fame for Awesomeness (or even Semi-Awesomeness), but we didn’t do too badly. I guess you can judge for yourself.

For Christmas I wasn’t exactly rolling in cash, so I gave coupons for anything that Mom, Grandma, and Georgia wanted me to draw. They all said themselves, and for part of the day I was like a real artist, drawing each of them as they sat for their portraits. They even got to pick where they wanted to be, and I drew that too.

It was also the first time I’d given my own art as a real gift, and I guess since it was Christmastime, Leo said I could count it as three things for the Get a Life list instead of just one.

Hey, I’ll take it. Merry Christmas to me too!

B
y the end of Christmas break, my Get a Life list had 114 things on it. That meant 81 to go, with 77 days until the Spring Art Show at Cathedral. I was a little bit behind, but it wasn’t too bad, seeing as I’d been chained to Grandma’s house for the last two weeks.