Miranda is Really for it Now

Mrs Trundle is not a pirate but she does have two things in common with the evil villain on the right. She has an eyepatch and she has a moustache. OK, her moustache is not a ginormous batlike thing but it is there and sort of wafts a bit when she moves her mouth alot (which is alot). Also her eyepatch is quite superior and has pretend diamonds on it. You may want to know how she came to have an eyepatch but at this moment you just need to know it had nothing much to do with me.

Miranda is really for it now. We are just waiting for the right moment. And this could be difficult because after the utter and complete disaster of the button pressing incident, Mr Chuckle and Mrs Trundle went into a huddle and Dexter and me are now under museum arrest (it is like house arrest but in a museum). Mrs Trundle is making it her total duty to make mine and Dexter's life a button free MISERY.
'Just look at the triangular window the astronauts looked through, Wilfred,' she says, pushing me and Dexter into the nearly real space capsule.
I make the mistake of not instantly looking at the window. I am too excited by the acres of sparkling silver foil.
'Look at it, then!' she says. Dexter goes to touch it. 'DON'T TOUCH IT!' she roars. 'Just mark it off on your worksheet, Wilfred and you Dexter! Now why was the capsule this shape?'
I move out to get a better look.
'Come back here!'
And it goes on and on like this so that one interesting thing after another is ticked off but not touched. It gets to the point when I don't know who I hate more, Mrs Trundle or Miranda and her smug bug club buddies. They are allowed to go wherever they like and touch whatever they want.
And then it is lunchtime and Mrs Trundle is forced to swivel her bulging eye (did I mention the eyepatch?) over other victims. We are force-marched down to a big space, near some toilets, where we cannot make any mess and everyone grabs a table and takes out what is left of their lunch.
And I spot our chance for revenge. Miranda has gone to the toilet with a swarm of girls. On the next table her pink fluffy backpack is open. Her precious lunchbox is there.
'I think she needs a few extras in it,' I say. I reach in and grab the little plastic box.
'Give it here,' says Dexter and he has a handful of earth from a ginormous potplant. 'Look at this,' he prods the dirt, ' there are ants here! big-uns!'
'Yeah,' I say, 'and they look hungry...tell me if she comes,' and I pull at the corner of the lunchbox.
It peels back a millimetre and gets stuck.
'Hurry up!' says Dexter.
I pull some more. The lid gives a little, I tug harder and it flies off and the box sort of jumps and 4 trillion creepy crawlies land on my face. Someone screams. I think it is me.