Last night when I went to bed I had athelas in my mouth and now there’s athelas in my hair and when I got up I tripped over my white Steward rod and by mistake I dropped my quiver in the sink while the water was running and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

At breakfast Boromir found a free Shard of Narsil in his breakfast cereal and Dad found a miniature Secret Agent Decoding Palantir ring but all I found in my breakfast cereal box was breakfast cereal.

I think I’ll move to Australia.

On the way to Ithilien Madril got to ride in the front. Damrod and Beregond got to ride in the front too. I said I was being smushed. I said the other Rangers were smelly and needed baths. I said the forest was too hot and buggy. I said if I don’t get to ride up front, I am going to be sick. No one even answered. I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

I could tell because Frodo said I wasn’t his best friend any more. He said that the Ring was his best friend and that Sam was his next best friend and that Pippin was his third best friend and that Merry was his fourth best friend and that I was only, like, his six hundredth best friend. I hope you sit on Sting, I said to Frodo. I hope the next time you get strawberry Longbottom Leaf coney stew, the strawberry part falls off and lands in Australia.

At Osgiliath there were fell beasts and Damrod told me my life would be forfeit and one of the orcs made me fall where it was muddy. There were two cupcakes in Madril’s pack and Damrod got a lembas bar with dessicated coconut sprinkles. Guess whose dad forgot to put in dessert? It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

That’s what it was, because afterwards Dad said I was a crybaby and scolded me for being muddy and fighting. He made me go back and retake the city. My horse stepped on my foot and there were arrows and my father went loony and tried to cremate me.  When I fell off the pyre I chipped my tooth. Ioreth said come back next week and she’ll fix it.

Next week, I said, I’m going to Australia.

Aragorn’s hands were too cold, the athelas bath was too hot, and my marble went down the drain. Eowyn fell in love with me and tried to kiss me and I hate kissing. I had to wear my White Tree pajamas. I hate my White Tree pajamas. The night-torch burned out and I bit my tongue and Merry took back the pillow he said I could keep.

At the coronation I had to stand around in a sissy blue velvet robe and smile at Eowyn.  Even though she has cooties.  Aragorn gets to be king now and I'll have to take the bottom bunkbed.

It has been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. Gandalf says some days are like that.

Even in Australia.