Miss Penelope Dork Diaries Info

My new assignment is the Wellington-Calloway family. They live in a mansion that is less “home” and more “modern art museum with a Lego minefield.” The parents, Mr. and Mrs. Wellington-Calloway, are rarely home. They are “curating experiences” or “finding themselves in Bali.” They left me a 47-page binder titled “Operational Protocols for Sprog.”

My heart cracked a little. “That’s very honest.”

“You can keep the name Penelope. I’ll share.” miss penelope dork diaries

“I’d write that I’m scared,” she whispered. “Of being alone. Mom and Dad are always gone. The nannies always leave. You’ll leave too, Miss Fart Cloud.”

The first week was a blur of disasters. She replaced the salt with sugar before a dinner party for the ambassador of something. She taught the parrot to say “Your aura is giving landfill.” She locked the chef in the wine cellar because he “looked at her funny.” (He had yawned. That was the crime.) My new assignment is the Wellington-Calloway family

And then, as they were leaving for Bali again (this time for “sound bath immersion”), she tugged my sleeve.

“I’m not writing in that old thing,” she said, kicking a stuffed bunny across the floor. “It’s boomer cringe.” Wellington-Calloway, are rarely home

She handed me a folded piece of paper. It was a single page torn from the pink diary. On it, in purple gel pen, she had drawn two stick figures. One small, with mismatched eyes. One tall, with a coffee cup and noise-canceling headphones. Underneath, she had written: