wimpy

One sunny summer day, Greg Heffley, our notoriously notorious wimpy kid, woke up to find the family suitcases ominously lined up at the front door. Greg's parents, Frank and Susan, had decided to embark on a long road trip as a family. It was a supposed opportunity 'to bond', but Greg had his reservations. After all, a minivan filled to the brim with his brothers, Rodrick and Manny, spelled catastrophe in any language.

It was finally the day of the Valentine's Day dance at Greg Heffley's middle school. Greg, the quintessential wimpy kid, was both nervous and excited. He had, after all, managed to invite Holly Hills, the prettiest girl in school. Now, everything was up to fate.

Ever since I was a kid, I knew I was different. I liked solitude, the language of computers and the world of coding more than physical exertion and socializing. I had a peculiar inclination for creating virtual worlds and solving puzzles within the comfort of my room. I, Greg Heffley, was known as the outsider, the wimpy kid who'd rather code than play catch.