Miss Penelope Dork Diaries Now

“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.”

I folded the paper and put it in my pocket. Right next to my spare wet wipes. miss penelope dork diaries

On my first day, the binder said: “Penelope enjoys quiet artistic expression.” “I’d write that I’m scared,” she whispered

“Hello,” I said, my voice calm. “I’m Miss Penelope.” The nannies always leave

Not mine. The diary.

“ I’m Penelope,” she said, smearing more cream on the cat’s ear. “You have to pick a new name. Or I will call you ‘Fart Cloud.’”

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.”