There’s a new girl on my street, and I’m pretty sure it’s either Satan’s spawn or McKenzie’s long lost twin.
Seriously, this girl is BAD BAD news!!
You may wondering, “Gee, Nikki, what could this poor girl have possibly done to inspire such a deep sense of wrath?”
First, allow me to correct a clearly misguided assumption. She is SO not poor!
In fact, her family owns a statue of a baby that’s also a fountain (yup, he’s peeing!), a flat-screen TV that’s wider than my bedroom, and a massive painting of dogs playing poker.
I know all this because they blocked our entire street with their lame moving truck this weekend, and then spent five hours watching their hired help unload tons of overpriced stuff that no one else on our street can afford.
Now it may seem that I don’t like this girl because she probably has a closet full of designer clothes, a cell phone ear piece thingy, and Tyra on speed dial, but that’s SO not it!
I don’t dislike her because she’s rich. I dislike her because she’s evil!!
Since I don’t know her name yet, we’ll just call her “MacKenzie 2.”
The day they all moved in, I was sitting on my front lawn eating a freeze pop while Brianna was blowing bubbles and talking to her feet. (It went something like, “Mr. Left Shoe, why can’t you get along with your brother? Don’t be mad because he’s always right!”)
McKenzie 2’s mom was sitting in a fancy lawn chair drinking some kind of umbrella drink while the moving guys were sweating buckets. Her dad was yelling at them to find his golf clubs, even though there were like 50 antique couches blocking them in the truck.
McKenzie 2 was whining over and over again, “Mumsy, I need my iPad! Where’s my iPad mumsy?”
When I heard her say “mumsy” I laughed so hard that I almost peed a little—and she heard me! She must have supersonic hearing or something, because our house is, like, two down and across the street.
McKenzie 2 started running at me. Running! I kid you not!
Then she’s all like, “And just what are you laughing at, imbecile? I demand to know, this instant, what you find so funny!”
So I was all like, “I was laughing at YOU, because you seem super spoiled and annoying.” Except I said it really soft in my head so nobody heard it but me.
What I actually said was, “Um, laughing? Oh, right, laughing. Well, I was thinking of this super funny thing that happened last week. There were these kids, and they, um, they told a really good joke, and I, um, well I laughed a lot because I really love jokes.”
Why on earth was I acting so scared?! McKenzie 2 is about a foot shorter than me and she was wearing shorts that looked like a diaper—not really intimidating at all.
But something about that fuming-mad-small-person look made me think she might attack like an evil leprechaun.
So McKenzie 2 goes, “Oh really? What’s the joke then? What was SO funny that you had to laugh like a deranged hyena and bother my family after a long, hard day of moving? Hmmmm?”
She was all up in my face, like she might snap her finger and bob her head, and I panicked! Suddenly I couldn’t think of a single joke, not even the lame knock-knock kind…and I know tons of those!
I must have said “um” about 20 times when I felt it: the cold, sticky cascade of bubbles dripping down my head.
Yup! The troll had grabbed Brianna’s bubbles and showered me with them.
After she marched away with a smug grin, I ran inside to tell my mom. I couldn’t hear what she said to McKenzie 2’s mom when she went over to talk to her, but I DID see her pull up a chair and start drinking something.
If my lip-reading skills serve me right, I’m pretty sure she said, “You’re right, Cookie. Girls will be girls!”
My own mother sold me out for an umbrella drink!
This is SO not over! McKenzie 2…you may think you have won, but we shall see who has the last laugh!