My Explosive Diary
Saturday Night
My Lab, 7 p.m.
Dear Diary,
We’ve been banished to the lab FOREVER. You’ll understand why when I tell you about my latest invention.
It was Invention 92: the Super-Sneaky Spy-Cam Collar.
This is what happened to it.
Don’t worry, Einstein wasn’t wearing it at the time.
Dad says that before every good invention there are 99 not-so-good ones. That was number 92. I’m SO CLOSE, Diary.
Everyone in my family had the grumps after the explosion.
Einstein is the only one who has forgiven me.
He understands me even if no one else does.
This is him.
I named him Einstein after the real Einstein, who was a scientist. But he’s dead now. Not my dog—the scientist.
Do you know what hurt the most? It was what Dad said:
He knows I don’t have a bedroom. I have a LAB. Bedrooms are just for sleeping in. I’m too busy inventing to sleep!
Dad has a lab too, only his is disguised as a garden shed.
Dad is a fully qualified inventor who makes gadgets for spies, and I’m his assistant. I like being an assistant inventor, but one day I’d actually like to be a SPY, too. I mean, why should someone ELSE get to have all the fun with MY inventions?
Speaking of inventions, how did my Super-Sneaky Spy-Cam Collar go so wrong? It would have been PERFECT for tracking down where Einstein buries our things . . .
. . . like Alice’s shoes,
. . . Plum’s toys,
. . . and even Dad’s tools from his tool belt.
I showed Alice my invention yesterday before it exploded. She should have been super-impressed, but she barely looked at it. That was very non-super of her.
No one cares about any of my inventions—especially Alice. All she cares about is her garden. That’s why she confiscated Invention 91: the Spy Rocket that I invented last week. She just doesn’t understand me or my inventions.
My plan was to make Einstein wear his Super- Sneaky Spy-Cam Collar, and then I’d watch the film to see where his secret stash was buried.
But when I connected the Super-Sneaky Spy-Cam to the telecommunication system (the TV) via the electric current carrier (the TV cable), and put on our flying particle protectors (goggles) . . . well, you know what happened:
And that brings us back to right now.
I’m desperate to come up with an even better invention. That’s why we’re upside down—it helps you think. It also makes your hair grow, which is probably why we both have big, fuzzy hairstyles.
Thinking . . . thinking . . . I just know something will come to me soon.
Yours inventively,
Eliza Boom
Inventor-in-Training
P.S. Since I’m writing my inventions in your pages, Diary, you should have a scientific name, too.
Edison invented this:
Excerpted from My Explosive Diary by Emily Gale
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