It was that time of year again. Spring cleaning at Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends. All of the friends had been assigned different tasks, but Frankie like always had the biggest job; sorting the objects that would be part of the yard sale. As Frankie stood at a table on the front yard, sorting through a box of old books, she heard a thud from behind her. Turning, she saw Mac on the ground with a spilled box of toys next to him.

"Sorry about that." Mac said.

Frankie chuckled. "No problem. I forgot how many toys needed to be cleaned out of the nursery."

"I offered to help." Bloo chimed in.

"No, you didn't. You just put two toys in there."

"That wasn't helping?"

Mac gave Bloo an annoyed glance and then looked up at Frankie. "So, what else needs to be moved?"

"Well, I have some old shoes up in my room. They don't really fit me anymore."

"We're on it. Come on, Bloo." Mac started to walk away.

"What? I was about to start my break!"

"Bloo!" Mac shouted.

"Slave-driver." Bloo said quietly.

"They're in the boxes marked size 6 and a half." Frankie called after them.

Mac and Bloo made their way upstairs and to Frankie's room. As Mac began to look through the closet for the boxes, Bloo started to look for something to snoop at.

"Bloo, don't touch anything else. This is Frankie's personal property."

"But she's letting us touch her shoes. Those are personal property."

"Yeah, and it's the only thing she gave us permission to touch. So, hands off. Control yourself."

Bloo scoffed. "Are you saying that I have no self-control? I resent that."

Bloo folded his arms and lifted his head in defiance. Seconds later, he opened the drawer to her nightstand and peeked inside.

"Oooh, what's this?"

Mac began stacking the shoe boxes. "Whatever it is, it's Frankie's."

Bloo took out a leather-bound book with hearts drawn on it and a gold lock. "It looks like a diary."

Mac turned to Bloo. "Bloo, put it back."

"Oh, come on on. One teensy little look won't hurt." Bloo grunted as he tried to pry off the lock. "Man, this thing is tough. I wonder if there's a pencil around here?"

Bloo began to search for a pencil as Mac continued to work on the shoes.

"Even if you found one, the pencil trick never-"

"Got it!" Bloo called out.

Mac turned quickly and saw Bloo about to open the diary. He ran over to him and snatched it away.

"I said no, Bloo. Frankie would be really upset."

Mac placed the diary back in the drawer but Bloo reached right back in and opened it again.

"You're not even the least bit interested in what she's got to say?"

"Nope." Mac walked past Bloo carrying the shoe boxes. "I'm taking these shoes downstairs and I'm telling Frankie what you're doing."

"Oh, really?" Bloo looked down at the diary. "Dear diary, today Mac came for his visit. He is such a good friend, and such a sweet little boy. I only wish he were my age, then-"

"Give me that!" Mac snatched the diary from Bloo and started to read.

"Made you look! Made you look!" Bloo teased.

Mac rolled his eyes, but then frowned when he looked down at the diary. "That's weird."

"What? Let me see!" Bloo jumped up and down as he looked over Mac's shoulder. "Oh come on, she just talks about her boring day. Again and again."

"Yeah, but look at the pages. They all end the same way."

Bloo looked at the diary and realized that Mac was right. All of the entries ended with the same words: No sign of him.

"What of it?" Bloo asked.

Mac flipped through the diary. "Every page, Bloo. Look at the dates, it goes all the way back to when she was six and started to live here. "

Again, Mac was right. The writing was in crayon and the words misspelled, but it was the same closing as before.

"Who is she talking about?"

A piece of paper slipped out of the diary and onto the floor. It was a drawing of a young Frankie crying and holding a blue balloon.

"I don't like this, Bloo. Whoever Frankie is looking for, she's been looking for him for sixteen years! She seems so sad in that drawing. We've gotta help her."

"Okay." Bloo started to walk away.

"Where are you going?" Mac asked.

"Downstairs to ask Frankie."

Mac tackled Bloo to the ground. "Bloo, no! We can't ask Frankie about this. She'll know we read her diary if we tell her." Mac stood and put the diary back in the drawer. "It's better if we talk to Madam Foster or Mr. Herriman about this."

"Why do you want to do this anyway?"

"Because Frankie is our friend. She's done so much and been so nice to me and to you. Maybe if we find this person, we can show her how much we care about her." Mac explained.

"And she'll forgive you for looking at her diary?" Bloo asked.

"Yeah, that too." Mac said simply as the two of them left the room.