ESL-Chat Blog: Diary of a Wimpy Kid (Book 1)

ESL-Chat Blog

Diary of a Wimpy Kid (Book 1)

"My 6 year old son began reading "Wimpy Kid" books just as he was learning to read. Many times I would allow him to read before bed and would hear him laughing hysterically in his room. Now, 7 years old, he has read all of them and often will pick them up and read them again. They are silly, but the appeal to his age demographic was actually amazing to me. I didn’t have to make him read... he wanted to read. And he loved them all. I would recommend the entire series to any parent of a child who is learning and becoming comfortable with reading comprehension." Amazon Review

Diary of a Wimpy Kid (Book 1) is one of the best-selling books of all time with more than 16 million copies sold.

Here is the full text of the book:

Diary of a Wimpy Kid (Book 1) by Jeff Kinney

September

Tuesday
First of all, let me get something straight: This
is a Journal, not a diary. I know what it
says on the cover, but when Mom went out to
buy this thing I specifically told her to
get one that didn’t say “diary” on it.

Great. All I need is for some jerk to catch me
carrying this book around and get the wrong idea.

The other thing I want to clear up right away
is that this was mom’s idea, not mine.
But if she thinks I’m going to write down my
“feelings” in here or whatever, she’s crazy. So
just don’t expect me to be all “Dear Diary” this
and “Dear Diary” that.

The only reason I agreed to do this at all is
because I figure later on when I’m rich and
famous, I’ll have better things to do than
answer people’s stupid questions all day long. So
this book is gonna come in handy.

Like I said, I’ll be famous one day, but for now
I’m stuck in middle school with a bunch of morons.

Let me just say for the record that I think
middle school is the dumbest idea ever invented.
You got kids like me who haven’t hit their
growth spurt yet mixed in with these gorillas who
need to shave twice a day.

And then they wonder why bullying is such a big
problem in middle school.

If it was up to me, grade levels would be based
on height, not age. But then again, I guess
that would mean kids like Chirag Gupta would
still be in the first grade.

Today is the first day of school, and right now
we’re just waiting around for the teacher to hurry
up and finish the seating chart. So I figured I
might as well write in this book to pass the time.

By the way, let me give you some good advice. On
the first day of school, you got to be real careful
where you sit. You walk into the classroom and just
plunk your stuff down on any old desk and the
next thing you know the teacher is saying —

I HOPE YOU ALL LIKE WHERE YOU’RE SITTING,
BECAUSE THESE ARE YOUR PERMANENT SEATS.

So in this class, I got stuck with Chris Hosey in
front of me and Lionel James in back of me.

Jason Brill came in late and almost sat to my
right, but luckily I stopped that from happening
at the last second.

Next period, I should just sit in the middle of a
bunch of hot girls as soon as I step in the
room But I guess if I do that, it just proves
I didn’t learn anything from last year.
Because I ended up passing notes that probably
read: Greg is a dork!

Man, I don’t know what is up with girls these
days. It used to be a whole lot simpler back in
elementary school. The deal was, if you were the
fastest runner in your class, you got all the girls.

And in the fifth grade, the fastest runner was
Ronnie McCoy.

Nowadays, it’s a whole lot more complicated. Now
it’s about the kind of clothes you wear or how
rich you are or if you have a cute butt or whatever.
And kids like Ronnie McCoy are scratching their
heads wondering what the heck happened.

The most popular boy in my grade is Bryce
Anderson. The thing that really stinks is that
I have always been into girls, but kids like
Bryce have only come around in the last couple
of years.

I remember how Bryce used to act back in
elementary school.

But of course now I don’t get any credit for
sticking with the girls all this time.

Like I said, Bryce is the most popular kid in our
grade, so that leaves all the rest of us guys
scrambling for the other spots.

The best I can figure is that I’m somewhere
around 52nd or 53rd most popular this year.

But the good news is that I’m about to move
up one spot because Charlie Davies is above me,
and he’s getting his braces next week.

I try to explain all this popularity stuff to my
friend Rowley (who is probably hovering right
around the 150 mark, by the way), but I think
it just goes in one ear and out the other with him.

Wednesday
Today we had Phys Ed, so the first thing I
did when I got outside was sneak off to the
basketball court to see if the Cheese was still
there. And sure enough, it was.

That piece of Cheese has been sitting on the
blacktop since last spring. I guess it must’ve
dropped out of someone’s sandwich or something.
After a couple of days, the Cheese started getting
all moldy and nasty. Nobody would play basketball on
the court where the Cheese was, even though that
was the only court that had a hoop with a net.

Then one day, this kid named Darren Walsh
touched the Cheese with his finger, and that’s
what started this thing called the Cheese Touch.

It’s basically like the Cooties. If you get the
Cheese Touch, you’re stuck with it until you
pass it on to someone else.

Cheese Touch is to cross your fingers.

But it’s not that easy remembering to keep your
fingers crossed every moment of the day I ended
up taping mine together so they’d stay crossed
all the time. I got a D in handwriting, but it
was totally worth it.

This one kid named Abe Hall got the Cheese
Touch in April, and nobody would even come near
him for the rest of the year. This summer Abe
moved away to California and took the Cheese
Touch with him.

I just hope someone doesn’t start the Cheese
Touch up again, because I don’t need that kind
of stress in my life anymore.

Thursday
I’m having a seriously hard time getting used
to the fact that summer is over and I have to
get out of bed every morning to go to school.

My summer did not exactly get off to a great
start, thanks to my older brother Rodrick.
A couple of days into summer vacation, Rodrick
woke me up in the middle of the night. He told
me I slept through the whole summer, but that
luckily I woke up just in time for the first
day of school.

You might think I was pretty dumb for falling
for that one, but Rodrick was dressed up in his
school clothes and he set my alarm clock ahead to
make it look like it was the morning. Plus, he
closed my curtains so I couldn’t see that it was
still dark out.

After Rodrick woke me up, I just got dressed and
went downstairs to make myself some breakfast,
like I do every morning on a school day.

But I guess I must have made a pretty big
racket because the next thing I knew, Dad was
downstairs, yelling at me for eating Cheerios at
3:00 in the morning.

It took me a minute to figure out what the heck
was going on.

After I did, I told Dad that Rodrick had
played a trick on me, and He was the one that
should be getting yelled at.

Dad walked down to the basement to chew
Rodrick out, and I tagged along. I couldn’t
wait to see Rodrick get what was coming to him.

But Rodrick covered up his tracks pretty good.
And to this day, I’m sure Dad thinks I’ve
got a screw loose or something.

Friday
Today at school we got assigned to reading groups.

They don’t come right out and tell you if
you’re in the Gifted group or the Easy group,
but you can figure it out right away by looking
at the covers of the books they hand out.

EINSTEIN AS A CHILD
or
Bink SAYS BOOS

I was pretty disappointed to find out I got
put in the Gifted group, because that just means
a lot of extra work.

When they did the screening at the end of last
year, I did my best to make sure I got put in
the Easy group this year by acting stupid.

Mom is real tight with our principal, so If 1 bit
she stepped in and made sure I got put in the
Gifted group again.

Mom is always saying I’m a smart kid, but that
I just don’t “apply” myself.

But if there’s one thing I learned from Rodrick,
it’s to set people’s expectations real low so you
end up surprising them by practically doing
nothing at all.

Actually, I’m kind of glad my plan to get put
in the Easy group didn’t work.

I saw a couple of the “Bink Says Boo” kids
holding their books upside down, and I don’t
think they were joking.

Saturday
Well, the first week of school is finally over, so
today I slept in.

Most kids wake up early on Saturday to watch
cartoons or whatever, but not me. The only reason
I get out of bed at all on weekends is because
eventually, I can’t stand the taste of my own
breath anymore.

Unfortunately, Dad wakes up at 6:00 in the
morning no matter what day of the week it
is, and he is not real considerate of the fact
that I am trying to enjoy my Saturday like
a normal person.

I didn’t have anything to do today so I just
headed up to Rowley’s house.

Rowley is technically my best friend, but that is
definitely subject to change.

I’ve been avoiding Rowley since the first day of
school, when he did something that really
annoyed me.

We were getting our stuff from our lockers at
the end of the day, and Rowley came up to me
and said —

WANT TO COME OVER
TO MY HOUSE AND
PLAAYYY?

I have told Rowley at least a billion times that
now that we’re in middle school, you’re supposed
to say “hang out,” not “play.” But no matter
how many noogies I give him, he always forgets
the next time.

I’ve been trying to be a lot more careful about
my image ever since I got to middle school. But
having Rowley around is definitely not helping.

I met Rowley a few years ago when he moved
into my neighborhood.

His mom bought him this book called “How to
Make Friends in New Places,” and he came to
my house trying all these dumb gimmicks.

I guess I kind of felt sorry for Rowley, and I
decided to take him under my wing.

It’s been great having him around, mostly because
I get to use all the tricks Rodrick pulls on me.

Monday
You know how I said I play all sorts of pranks
on Rowley? Well, I have a little brother named
Manny, and I could never get away with
pulling any of that stuff on him.

Mom and Dad protect Manny like he’s a prince or
something. And he never gets in trouble, even if
he really deserves it.

Yesterday, Manny drew a self-portrait on my
bedroom door in permanent marker. I thought
Mom and Dad were really going to let him have
it, but as usual, I was wrong.

But the thing that bugs me the most about
Manny is the nickname he has for me. When he
was a baby, he couldn’t pronounce “brother,”
so he started calling me “Bubby.” And he
still calls me that now, even though I keep
trying to get Mom and Dad to make him stop.

Luckily none of my friends have found out yet,
but believe me, I have had some really close calls.

Mom makes me help Manny get ready for school in
the morning. After I make Manny his breakfast,
he carries his cereal bowl into the family room and
sits on his plastic potty.

And when it’s time for him to go to day care, he
gets up and dumps whatever he didn’t eat right in

Mom is always getting on me about not finishing
my breakfast. But if she had to scrape corn
flakes out of the bottom of a plastic potty
every morning, she wouldn’t have much of an
appetite either.

Tuesday
I don’t know if I mentioned this before, but I
am super good at video games. I bet I
could beat anyone in my grade head-to-head.

Unfortunately, Dad does not exactly appreciate
my skills. He’s always getting on me about going
out and doing something “active.”

So tonight after dinner when Dad started
hassling me about going outside, I tried to
explain how with video games, you can play sports
like football and soccer, and you don’t even get all
hot and sweaty.

But as usual, Dad didn’t see my logic.

Dad is a pretty smart guy in general but when
it comes to common sense, sometimes I wonder
about him.

I’m sure Dad would dismantle my game system
if he could figure out how to do it. But luckily,
the people who make these things make them
parent-proof.

Every time Dad kicks me out of the house to do
something sporty, I just go up to Rowley’s and
play my video games there.

Unfortunately, the only games I can play at
Rowley’s are car-racing games and stuff like that.

Because whenever I bring a game up to Rowley’s
house, his dad looks it up on some parents’ Web
site. And if my game has any kind of fighting
or violence in it, he won’t let us play.

I’m getting a little sick of playing Formula One
Racing with Rowley, because he’s not a serious
gamer like me. All that you have to do to beat
Rowley is name your car something ridiculous at
the beginning of the game.

And then when you pass Rowley’s car, he just
falls to pieces.

Anyway, after I got done mopping the floor
with Rowley today, I headed home. I ran
through the neighbor’s sprinkler a couple times to
make it look like I was all sweaty, and that
seemed to do the trick for Dad.

But my trick kind of backfired, because as soon
as Mom saw me, she made me go upstairs and
take a shower.

Wednesday
I guess Dad must have been pretty happy with
himself for making me go outside yesterday,
because he did it again today

It’s getting really annoying to have to go up to
Rowley’s every time I want to play a video game.
There’s this weird kid named Fregley who lives
halfway between my house and Rowley’s, and
Fregley is always hanging out in his front yard.
So it’s pretty hard to avoid him

Fregley is in my Phys Ed class at school, and he
has this whole made-up language. Like when he
needs to go to the bathroom, he says —

JUICE, JUICE!

Us kids have pretty much figured Fregley out by
now, but I don’t think the teachers have really
caught on yet.

Today, I probably would have gone up to Rowley’s
on my own anyway, because my brother Rodrick
and his band were practicing down in the basement.

Rodrick’s band is really awful, and I can’t
stand being home when they’re having rehearsals.

His band is called “Loaded Diaper,” only it’s
spelled “Loded Diper” on Rodrick’s van.

You might think he spelled it that way to make it
look cooler, but I bet if you told Rodrick how
“Loaded Diaper” is really spelled, it would be news
to him.

Dad was against the idea of Rodrick starting a
band, but Mom was all for it.

She’s the one who bought Rodrick his first
drum set.

I think Mom has this idea that we’re all going
to learn to play instruments and then become one
of those family bands like you see on tv.

Dad really hates heavy metal, and that’s the
kind of music Rodrick and his band play I don’t
think Mom really cares what Rodrick plays or listens
to, because to her, all music is the same. In
fact, earlier today, Rodrick was listening to one
of his CDs in the family room, and Mom came in
and started dancing.

That really bugged Rodrick, so he drove off to
the store and came back fifteen minutes later
with some headphones. And that pretty much
took care of the problem.

Book information:
Reading age: 9+
Word count: 19784
Number of pages: 224
Year: 2007
Sales (millions): 16
Links: Amazon, Wikipedia, YouTube, Goodreads, LibraryThing, Common Sense Media, Lexile

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