No One Ever Listens to Me!
My
name is Patty Jo, and no one ever listens to me.
My baby brother, Daniel, doesn’t listen to me. He just lies there and drools, except when he yells. Everyone listens to him.
“Did my sweetie bump his head?”
“Oh, Angel-Love, are you wet?”
He can’t even answer them.
When I yell, “I don’t like mashed potatoes!” my dad says, “Patty Jo, keep your voice down.”
Or my mom says, “Patricia
Josephine Boggs, go to your room until you can stop yelling.”
The only reason I’m yelling is because no one ever listens to me.
Yesterday at recess I yelled, “Hey! That ball is foul! No fair!” No one listened to me.
Mrs. Upley, the teacher who had recess duty, said, “Life isn’t always fair, Patty Jo.”
Why not? Why won’t people listen to me when I tell them something isn’t fair? The only reason I’m yelling is because no one ever listens to me!
Today I was late leaving for school because
my big brother was taking up the bathroom. I had to wait and wait to
brush my teeth. I yelled, “Come on, Matt! Hurry up! I’m going to be
late!”
He said, “Too bad, Patty Jo.” Then he took even longer.
When I finally got to the corner, I saw my best friend, Betsy, walking up the hill with that new girl, Jane. I ran up to them. “Why didn’t you wait for me?” I yelled. “We always walk to the bus together.”
Betsy said, “Patty Jo, if you’re going to yell, I’m not going to walk with you.” She walked away with that Jane.
I cried. I didn’t let anyone see me, but I had
tears and a runny nose. The rest of the day I didn’t even feel like
yelling.
I didn’t feel like yelling at Ellen in my class when she bragged that she knows how to multiply.
I didn’t even feel like yelling when we were playing kickball. I could see the ball was foul again, but Mrs. Upley didn’t call it.
Everyone looked at me. Jane said, “Patty Jo, do you think the ball was foul?”
“Well, yes,” I said in a regular voice.
And everyone on both teams listened to me—even Mrs. Upley.
At our cubbies after school, I still didn’t feel like yelling. In my regular voice, I said, “Betsy, I wish you had waited for me this morning.”
She said, “I know. I was scared we would be late.”
“I’m sorry I yelled at you and Jane,” I said.
All three of us walked to the bus together.
At
dinner I used my regular voice again. “I don’t like mashed potatoes much.”
My mom said, “All right. Just two bites.”
In bed that night I thought about kickball and Betsy and mashed potatoes. I decided I was tired of yelling. I decided my regular voice works better.
Except at Matt’s football games. When he makes a touchdown, I yell louder than anyone.
