By Cheryl Paquin
Dear Diary—I am very bored and my
mum, who reckons she's a writer, said I should write
about my summer. She says they'll probably make me
do it when I go back to school, so I might as well
get a head start.
This summer, my seventh, has been
a shocker!
Last year, my sixth summer, was
excellent. I didn't ask to go to the park by myself
then because I was too scared. This summer I wanted
to, but my mum said no, I was too young.
Last year my mum was really fat
because the baby was still inside her tummy. I still
don't know how she got out, my mum says all kinds of
silly things about that. My step-brother told me the
baby came out of my mum's bottom. Frankly, I don't
see how that's possible.
Anyway, my mum was really fat, as
I said. And she was also working at the newspaper.
This was cool because it meant I got to go to Summer
SAC (School-aged Care) for five hours a day. We did
fun things: Painting, drawing, swimming, stories …
and there were heaps of kids to play with. I wanted
to go to SAC this summer but my mum, who is not fat
anymore, said no, she would be at home with the
baby, and I could be too.
Diary, I have to admit it's been
cool having the baby here (no matter how she got
out), but you know, sometimes she's painful. We have
to stay home a lot because it's time for her naps,
etc., etc., and when she's up, sometimes she's
REALLY annoying. For example, she CANNOT sit through
a whole episode of Blue's Clues. She starts
wriggling and crying and fussing. Sometimes my mum
is doing stuff and she tells me to amuse the baby. I
don't mind playing with her from time to time, but I
don't understand why she can't be quiet, either. And
Diary, sometimes she STINKS.
Anyway, so I've been stuck home A
LOT. Sometimes I'm allowed to walk to Deanna's house
to play. Deanna is my best friend who is also going
into second grade. But, the last time I went there,
I had such a good time, I forgot to come home. My
mum was not happy—I'm not allowed to go there for a
while.
My friend Madison, who lived three
houses down before she moved to the Farm, invited me
to a sleepover. My mum, after talking to Madison's
mum, said I could go. I was SO excited and couldn't
wait for them to pick me up. And I had a great TIME,
it was the BEST fun I'd had all summer. We stayed up
REALLY late and annoyed her older sister.
Then, a few days later, my head
got really itchy. I told my mum I had head lice as
we saw a video at school that said if you had an
itchy head, it was lice. I told my mum to get
special shampoo. Both my mum and dad looked in my
head and couldn't see anything. Diary, the itching
got worse so my mum looked again. And she screamed
really loudly and went mad washing everything. And
she scrubbed my head with that special shampoo. I've
had to sit still for hours while my hair was combed
out. When my mum swore, I knew it meant she got a
live one. Diary, I hate head lice.
After the head lice I couldn't go
anywhere, my mum said she'd be MORTI-something if I
gave it to someone else. So, I've had to stay home
and keep my room tidy and have my hair combed.
Finally, my mum said it was gone. By luck, the other
day, our old neighbors (not Madison) came over and
asked if I could go to their new house to play. My
mum said I could. Diary, I was having the best fun
I'd had for weeks—skipping up and down their stairs
and being noisy, until I suddenly fell down and
slammed my face into the door frame. It really,
really hurt.
The neighbors slapped ice on my
face and brought me home and my mum looked at me and
shrieked, "Oh My God." Before I knew it, I was at
the hospital. I don't like doctors. And they said I
needed a CAT scan. I don't know what this is, but I
took one look at the scary machinery and decided I
didn't want one and took off. My mum ran after me
and said she'd lie on the machine and show it didn't
hurt. I didn't believe her—she had a shot once, and
told me it didn't hurt … then I had mine. Anyway,
the doctor then said he wouldn't do the scan, so, I
just had a normal X-ray. I saw my face
bones—underneath my skin I look like an alien.
My mum said I should write about
my summer: So far, I have looked after my smelly
sister and got head lice. I have a black eye, my
cheek is puffed and bruised, and one side of my
mouth won't smile properly.
Dear Diary, this was my seventh
summer … and it sucked.
About the Author: Cheryl
Paquin is an Australian freelance writer, currently
living in Minnesota. Cheryl has a Masters degree in
Journalism, and has worked as a reporter and news
editor. She has two daughters, Bee and Belle. After
Belle's birth, Cheryl resigned from full-time work
to freelance. Feel free to email or visit her Web
site. http://cspaquin.com |
