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FROM BUBBA BEGONIA, YOU'LL
BE SORRY!
A book for children (ages 8 and up) by Gerry
O'Brien
Illustrations by Brenda Jones
CHAPTER ONE:
EW YUCKIES!
Like it had a mind of its own, Bubba’s finger
rose from the table and disappeared up his nose. He ignored the
bowl of Cracklin’ Sugar Babies that sat in front of him and
glanced up at the kitchen clock. In one hour and seven minutes he
would be starting grade four at a brand new school.
Mrs. Begonia stood at the stove stirring a pot of oatmeal. She glanced
over her shoulder at Bubba.
“Bubba Begonia! Don’t be messing with your nose! Your
finger’ll get stuck and then you’ll be sorry.”
Bubba jammed his hand under his butt.
“You know, today is a great opportunity for you, Bubba,”
said his mother. “New school. New classmates. They don’t
have to know about this finger in the nose business.”
Yeah, and they don’t have to call me “The Nose Jockey”
like the kids at my old school did, thought Bubba.
It was a nasty habit Bubba had picked up many years ago. Whenever
he started to worry or get nervous, his finger would head straight
to his nose. A lot of kids’ fingers would head straight for
their mouths and they’d darn near bite their fingernails right
off. Nobody seemed to care about the nail-biters, but they sure
went nuts when your finger hit your nose.
“Oh, gross!”
“Don’t your parents feed ya?”
“Hey, better watch out or your head’ll cave in!”
“Don’t poke yourself in the brain, Nose Jockey.”
Bubba had heard them all. But now it could be different in his new
school.
His mother returned her attention to the stove.
Bubba’s finger began to rise from the table.
Just then his little sister Becky entered the kitchen. She climbed
up on the chair beside Bubba.
"Ew yuckies! Don't be messin’ with your nose, Bubby!
Your finger'll get stuck and then you'll be sorry."
Bubba jammed the guilty hand back under himself.
Mrs. Begonia let out a loud exasperated sigh, "Oh, Bubba, what
am I going to do with you?"
"He's just nervous, mommy. You’re getting a new school
and a new teacher today, aren't you, Bubby?" said Becky.
Ah, dang, dang, and double dang! thought Bubba. How am I ever gonna
keep my stupid finger out of my stupid nose? Might as well wear
one of those little stickers on my chest that says “Hi my
name is...Bubba, but you can call me Nose Jockey for short.”
“I’m going to Kindergarten today for the first time
too, you know. And I’m not nervous. Why don't you just bite
your fingernails like me, Bubby?" Becky suggested, wiggling
her ten little bald fingers in front of his face.
“Yeah? Well, if you bite your nails you’ll swallow your
hand. Then you’ll be sorry, you little warthog.”
Becky giggled and stuck her fingers in her ears, "You're funny,
Bubby! You're a really funny guy. What's a warthog? I never heard
of that."
"It's a pig, Becky," said Bubba. "A fat ugly wild
pig!"
"Oooooooooiinnkk! Oooooooooiinnkk! Oooooooooiinnkk!" snorted
Becky.
"Becky!" yelled Mrs. Begonia.
Becky slapped her hand over her mouth.
Mrs. Begonia, again, turned her attention to the stove and Becky
began struggling with the huge box of Cracklin’ Sugar Babies.
Would your finger really get stuck? Bubba didn't believe that nonsense...not
really. It wasn't possible. Was it? It was just one of those things
parents said to try and scare their kids. Like if you touched a
toad you'd get warts or if you crossed your eyes they'd stay that
way. How many people did you see walking around with a finger stuck
up their nose? That stuff didn't scare Bubba...much.
“And remember, Bubby, you have to walk me to school today.
’Cause you wouldn’t want me to get lost, would you?
And you have to hold my hand the whole way!”
“No way, José. I’ll walk you to school but I’m
not holding hands.”
“Why not, Bubby? You’re my big brother, don’t
forget.”
“Because everyone will start singing, ‘Kindergarten
baby, Wash your face in gravy!’ And being the new kid is bad
enough without that.”
Becky slumped in her seat and spooned a single Sugar Baby into her
mouth.
Mrs. Begonia gave a sigh and returned her attention to the stove.
Again Bubba’s finger began to rise from the table.
No sooner did he get comfortable, when his father strolled into
the kitchen with his face buried in the morning paper. He sat down
opposite Bubba.
"Bubba! Don't be messing with your nose! Your finger'll get
stuck and then you'll be sorry," he said, peering over the
top of his glasses.
"Sorry, Dad," said Bubba. He hung his head and braced
himself for the lecture he knew would follow.
"You know, Son, when I get nervous I just try and whistle a
happy tune. Why don't you try that? Just whistle a happy tune."
Becky answered, "I don't think you can whistle when you got
a finger up your nose, Daddy!"
She plunged her chubby little finger into her nose and began to
whistle “Happy Birthday.”
"Becky!" yelled Mrs. Begonia.
Like her big brother, Becky jammed her hand under herself and hung
her head.
Mrs. Begonia fixed her eyes on Bubba. Hands on hips, she glared.
"Oh, Bubba, what is it going to take to make you stop this
foolishness? I sure hope you don't behave like this at your new
school," she said, wagging a finger sternly in his direction.
Sitting now on both of his hands, Bubba said, “Oh, no, mom.
They’re gonna see a new and different kinda Bubba. Bubba Begonia....
cool guy!”
“Oooooooooooiinnk!” said Becky.
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excerpt
