Junie B. Jones and the Stupid Smelly Bus (Junie B. Jones, No. 1)

Junie B. Jones and the Stupid Smelly Bus (Junie B. Jones, No. 1)

Barbara Park

Language: English

Pages: 80

ISBN: 0679826424

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


Barbara Park’s New York Times bestselling chapter book series, Junie B. Jones, is a classroom favorite and has been keeping kids laughing—and reading—for more than twenty years. Over 60 million copies in print and now with a bright new look for a new generation!
 
Meet the World’s Funniest Kindergartner—Junie B. Jones! Remember when it was scary to go to school? In the first Junie B. Jones book, it’s Junie B.’s first day and she doesn’t know anything. She’s so scared of the school bus and the meanies on it that when it’s time to go home, she doesn’t.
 
USA Today:
“Junie B. is the darling of the young-reader set.”
 
Publishers Weekly:
“Park convinces beginning readers that Junie B.—and reading—are lots of fun.”
 
Kirkus Reviews:
“Junie’s swarms of young fans will continue to delight in her unique take on the world. . . . A hilarious, first-rate read-aloud.”
 
Time:
“Junie B. Jones is a feisty six-year-old with an endearing penchant for honesty.”

A Kiss, a Dare and a Boat Called Promise

Soup for One

Junie B., First Grader: Toothless Wonder (Junie B. Jones, Book 20)

The Thing on the Wing Can Sing (Sounds Like Reading)

Bridges and Tunnels

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Hi! I’m glad to see you!” she called. Then I ran over to her. And I showed her the big footprint on my skirt that looks like velvet. “Yeah, only look what happened. I got stepped on and so now I’m soiled.” Mrs. brushed it. “Don’t worry, Junie,” she said. “It’ll come off.” After that I just folded my arms and made a frown. ’Cause guess what? She forgot my B again. 4/Me and Lucille and Some Other Kids Some of the other bus kids turned out to be in my class, too. One of them was that

desks very much. The drawers are so big I could fit in one, I think. I opened up the top one. There were happy-face stickers. And rubber bands. And also, gold stars—which I love a very lot. I stuck one on my forehead. Then I found paper clips. And red marking pens. And new pencils with no points. And scissors. And travel tissues. And guess what else? “Chalk!” I said. “Brand-new chalk that’s not even out of its little box yet!” Then I stood up on my teacher’s chair and clapped my hands

stuff was. Like the easels where we get to paint. And the shelves where the books are. And the tables where we sit and don’t watch TV. One of the tables in the front of the room had a red chair. “I would like to sit here, I think,” I told her. But Mrs. said, “We’ll have to wait and see, Junie.” “B!” I said. “Call me Junie B.!” I hollered the B part real loud. So she wouldn’t forget it. People are always forgetting my B. Mother rolled her eyes and looked at the ceiling. I looked up there,

Mrs. smiled and said the bus driver’s name was Mr. Woo. “Mr. Woo,” said Mother. “That’s an easy name for Junie B. to remember.” I covered my ears and stamped my foot. “YEAH, ONLY WHERE’S THE STUPID SMELLY BUS GOIN’ TO?” Mother and Mrs. frowned. Frowning is when your eyebrows look grumpy. “Watch yourself, missy,” said Mother. Missy’s my name when I’m in trouble. I looked down at my shoes. They didn’t look as shiny as they did before. Just then another mother and a boy came in. And Mrs.

David.

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