Pretty in Plaid: A Life, a Witch, and a Wardrobe, or the Wonder Years Before the Condescending, Egomaniacal Self-Centered Smart-Ass Phase by Jen Lancaster Read Free Book Online
Authors: Jen Lancaster
only gotten to ride a horse a couple of times in my life, but I love them so much. I want to pet their glossy fur and scratch their broad muzzles and hug them around their strong necks and braid their manes. (One time my cousin Stephanie was mounting a horse at camp and it stepped on her thigh. She had a bruise the size of a watermelon. I don’t really want that.)
I always get in trouble for handing in my homework with horses drawn in the margins of my notebook paper. Plus, National Velvet is my favorite movie and I’ve read Misty of Chincoteague ten times already. Recently my Girl Scout troop went to Washington, D.C., and on the way we spent one night camping in Assateague. 24 I created an elaborate plan to sneak up on one of the wild ponies (preferably black with a white patch between his eyes) and tame it and make him my own just like the Beebe family. Mrs. McCoy promised me before we left that if I caught one, she’d transport it back to New Jersey in her station wagon. She was totally on board.
I grudgingly accept that she was humoring me, as all the shaggy ponies bolted when I got within a hundred yards of them. I guess Girl Scouts aren’t ninjas, after all, particularly when clog-clad.
You know what? Even without my own horse or pony, my life is pretty great. Our neighbor works for a dairy and he’s been giving us these fantastic fruit-on-the-bottom yogurts, which are almost like ice cream, but healthy so I’m allowed to help myself. (I put them on a plate and flip over the container so it comes out looking like an ice cream sundae.) And lately, Dad’s been generous with spare change every time we pass the Carvel.
Since Toad got involved with after-school sports like football, he’s had an outlet other than me for his aggression and our hand-to-hand combat has greatly diminished.
My grades are good, my friends are excellent, and my Girl Scout troop has five overnight excursions planned for next year. Can they top the outstanding adventures we’ve already had in our nation’s capital and at Rutgers ballgames and in a deluxe lodge in upstate New York, where we shoveled off a bit of the lake for our own private skating rink and made maple syrup candy in the fresh snow? My guess is yes!
How lucky am I to already have my life so figured out? I mean, we’ll probably spend the summer in my grandparents’ old place up in New Hampshire again and I can go to the beach every day, and when my dad comes up on Saturday, he’ll take me to the bookstore to buy some paper dolls. Then, next fall I already know I’m assigned to Mr. Lockwood’s class, as are Donna, Beth, and Tracey, and there’s an excellent chance I’m going to make cheerleader, considering Tracey’s stepmom is the coach. Then I cheer through junior high and high school, go to college at Pepperdine so I can be there when they film Battle of the Network Stars , which will allow me to meet Henry Winkler and thus become Mrs. Arthur Fonzarelli. Perfect!
In the immortal words of both Laverne and Shirley, nothing’s going to stop me now.
Even though he didn’t bring me any candy, I’m still glad to see my dad. He’s been in Indiana for weeks at a time off and on for the past year. He’s out there so much his company even rented him an apartment, where we visited him over spring break. We flew out of New York, and when we got into Indiana airspace I was shocked to see nothing but a massive expanse of white when I peeked out the window. Where were all the big buildings? Where were all the people? And what was up with those enormously empty snow-covered fields?
After spending a week in Cow Town, Indiana—the highlight being attending a high school basketball game 25 —I put Indiana on the States I’ve Visited list with the notation “I see no reason to ever return.”
When Todd gets home from baseball practice, my parents call both of us down to the rec room. Our rec room is in the basement, which is the most interesting part of our house. The
I always get in trouble for handing in my homework with horses drawn in the margins of my notebook paper. Plus, National Velvet is my favorite movie and I’ve read Misty of Chincoteague ten times already. Recently my Girl Scout troop went to Washington, D.C., and on the way we spent one night camping in Assateague. 24 I created an elaborate plan to sneak up on one of the wild ponies (preferably black with a white patch between his eyes) and tame it and make him my own just like the Beebe family. Mrs. McCoy promised me before we left that if I caught one, she’d transport it back to New Jersey in her station wagon. She was totally on board.
I grudgingly accept that she was humoring me, as all the shaggy ponies bolted when I got within a hundred yards of them. I guess Girl Scouts aren’t ninjas, after all, particularly when clog-clad.
You know what? Even without my own horse or pony, my life is pretty great. Our neighbor works for a dairy and he’s been giving us these fantastic fruit-on-the-bottom yogurts, which are almost like ice cream, but healthy so I’m allowed to help myself. (I put them on a plate and flip over the container so it comes out looking like an ice cream sundae.) And lately, Dad’s been generous with spare change every time we pass the Carvel.
Since Toad got involved with after-school sports like football, he’s had an outlet other than me for his aggression and our hand-to-hand combat has greatly diminished.
My grades are good, my friends are excellent, and my Girl Scout troop has five overnight excursions planned for next year. Can they top the outstanding adventures we’ve already had in our nation’s capital and at Rutgers ballgames and in a deluxe lodge in upstate New York, where we shoveled off a bit of the lake for our own private skating rink and made maple syrup candy in the fresh snow? My guess is yes!
How lucky am I to already have my life so figured out? I mean, we’ll probably spend the summer in my grandparents’ old place up in New Hampshire again and I can go to the beach every day, and when my dad comes up on Saturday, he’ll take me to the bookstore to buy some paper dolls. Then, next fall I already know I’m assigned to Mr. Lockwood’s class, as are Donna, Beth, and Tracey, and there’s an excellent chance I’m going to make cheerleader, considering Tracey’s stepmom is the coach. Then I cheer through junior high and high school, go to college at Pepperdine so I can be there when they film Battle of the Network Stars , which will allow me to meet Henry Winkler and thus become Mrs. Arthur Fonzarelli. Perfect!
In the immortal words of both Laverne and Shirley, nothing’s going to stop me now.
Even though he didn’t bring me any candy, I’m still glad to see my dad. He’s been in Indiana for weeks at a time off and on for the past year. He’s out there so much his company even rented him an apartment, where we visited him over spring break. We flew out of New York, and when we got into Indiana airspace I was shocked to see nothing but a massive expanse of white when I peeked out the window. Where were all the big buildings? Where were all the people? And what was up with those enormously empty snow-covered fields?
After spending a week in Cow Town, Indiana—the highlight being attending a high school basketball game 25 —I put Indiana on the States I’ve Visited list with the notation “I see no reason to ever return.”
When Todd gets home from baseball practice, my parents call both of us down to the rec room. Our rec room is in the basement, which is the most interesting part of our house. The
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