Read Online Dear Opl by Shelley Sackier - Free Book Online

Eat it, Go. This explains our country’s superpower attitude. We don’t have to waste time waiting for the water to boil.
    My chest grew tight reading about his seizure of English lunchrooms and attempts to overhaul their menus of fish and chips. I read that in one school, after the Lunch Grinch took charge, a group of parents started delivering junk food to kids through the school’s playground fence as a revolt against his dishes.
    And that’s when I came across his poisonous Meal Madness plan…for America. He planned to do the same to American children that he’d done to the English. Forcing buckets of naked food down our gullets without any ketchup to accompany it!
    I tried unclenching my fists as I stared at Alfie Adam’s face. It smiled at me from the screen. A more truthful picture would be him standing in front of a crowd of skinny, sad children, sticking his tongue out at them. Why were perfect people always telling you how to live your life so you could be perfect just like them?
    I clicked on the link to his website and watched his YouTube video about the evils of junk food and how it didn’t belong in kids’ diets. I was ready for a shouting match. I watched. I listened.
    The man was a little pudgy.
    He stuttered a bit.
    His hair was a mess.
    They didn’t show anything below his knees, but I bet if they had, I’d have seen he had two left feet. This man was a celebrity and not perfect .
    I smiled and bit down on a giggle. He came across different than I thought he would. Maybe he wasn’t so bad.
    â€œAaahhhh!” I shouted and jumped from my bed. “Consorting with the enemy. That’s what they want!” If he could sucker me in with just a funny accent and a goofy face, then I was no better than the rest of them.
    Except I love funny accents and goofy faces.
    Well, I’d just have to stay strong. My Nutter Butters had been there for me, and I would not let the people working for Nabisco suffer any boycott. Maybe I would even eat extras to help make up for those kids in England. I thought we’d all suffered enough.

The next day after school, I congratulated myself for making it to Diggerman’s without tripping in front of the soup kitchen guy. In fact, I was so busy thinking about how I wouldn’t let Alfie Adam make me feel guilty for eating un- naked food that I waltzed right passed him. Never even saw him. But I knew he was there.
    What I did see when I came home were two brown paper grocery bags on the kitchen counter. I loved grocery day. It had been a hard day at school with the dreadful morning blood test on an empty stomach, two quizzes, and a lunch that included plain milk and Snow White’s apple again. I’d left mine for the busy, nut-gathering squirrels. They liked tree food. I’m more Mickey D food. But right now, I wanted the prizes that came from those grocery bags. The supermarket offered flashy-colored boxes with pictures of crunchy, salty, syrupy sweet food plastered on them. I opened the bag and rifled through the goods. What was this? This wasn’t our regular stuff.
    I pulled out a bunch of vegetables. Green ones, brown ones, some red guys, and something either brown or purple or both. It was brurple. And on the bottom, I spotted a bag I’m guessing the school sent home. Apples. Probably the ones I threw out. Couldn’t have that, could we? We must make all students suffer equally.
    â€œG-pa?” I called out into the living room. “What’s all this stuff in here?”
    â€œA good start,” he growled back.
    I walked over to his chair. “I don’t get it. What’s a good start?”
    He put the flap down over his laptop and turned to look at me. “Broccoli, red peppers, eggplant, onions. It’s a good start to better health.”
    I felt my insides scrunch up. “Better health looks like all the fun got sucked out of it.”
    â€œBetter health gives you a