PRIVATE : KEEP OUT!!!! (THIS MEANS YOU,DAVID)
Christmas countdown from the personal journal of Tanya Gans in which she plays a hand at getting the Famous Couple to become a couple.
I'd like to start this soonish -- but just wanted to check before I begin -- does anyone know any other facts about D.'s daughter -- other than she is the older daughter? I'm guessing she is around 13, because in the episode where his family was being stalked, they showed David at a soccer game and he looked to be about ten.
Thanks,
Kav
MOD note: As per Kav's request, the title has been edited from the origional "Christmas Challenge" to "Tanya's Journal"
Full Version: Tanya's Journal
RomanceFanFiction.net > The Highlights - A Place To Start > Seasonal/Holiday Challenges > 2004 Seasonal/Holiday Challenges > Christmas Challenge and Stories - 2004
Wow!! Clever viewpoint!!!
I'd guess the age is close.
I'd guess the age is close.
Now that should be cute. Please hurry, I'm intrigued. 
Ooh, wow! Sounds intriguing!
ooooh 
You're going to have to start this one soon too, Kav!
On a side note, no, I don't have any other info on D's daughter.
JoM
You're going to have to start this one soon too, Kav!On a side note, no, I don't have any other info on D's daughter.
JoM
December 1, 2004
In my defense, I had no idea that Mr. Rudkoski was still in the science lab when I blew it up.
How was I to know that a teacher who, for every day for the past 32 years of teaching at St. Jerome High School has always left the science department at precisely 12:05 for lunch -- would suddenly divert from his normal routine and decide to grab a sandwich while staying to mark the science midterms?
Today of all days. The day I decide to join forces with my brothers and sisters in P.E.T.A. and liberate the mice and rats which are cruelly being used in experimental science by the 11th grade Biology students. And who could have anticipated Mr. Rudkoski's apparently violent allergic reaction to baking soda? (a key ingredient in my home made 'stink bomb with zip' which I invented myself). I mean, really, -- Baking soda???!!!!
And, anyway, I wouldn't have gotten caught at all if it hadn't been for Theodora. She's the main reason I had to take such extreme measures. Her days -- hours really -- were numbered. She is a simply lovely black hooded rat who has lived most of her life in the same one foot by one foot cage in St. Jerome's science lab -- and now, because of her advancing years -- has been put out to pasture. Her cage placed right next to Grant Dilbert's Biology project -- a baby boa constrictor! Theodora was destined to be the snake's weekly meal in the Biology class at 1:05.
Really, I ask you, what else could I do? Drastic measures require drastic actions -- and if you think being snake food isn't drastic you might want to run that by Theodora.
So, I decided that I would liberate the masses. My plan went off without a hitch (except for Mr. Rudkoski -- and I didn't know about that at the time). Truth be told it is alarmingly easy to lob a stink bomb into the science lab at lunch hour. The school should thank me for pointing out that flaw in their security system. Undercover of it's distraction, I filled the recycling cart I had borrowed with rodent cages and was back in the adjacent hall before the smoke cleared and the stench permeated. No one had any idea it was me. Why should they? Mild mannered A student -- daughter of an FBI agent -- Tanya Gans? So I whipped the recycle cart down to the basement and pretended to sort out the paper from the plastic with the rest of the Green Team -- who, by the way, had no clue that an intruder was in their midst. How observant is that?
But what I really did was release all of the mice and one of the rats into the darkened corners of the basement. I figured their chances of survival there was greater than sitting in cages up in the science lab waiting to be biology experiments and snake food.
I kept Theodora because she was old and I figured had to be traumatized by the whole snake episode -- so I popped her into my blazer pocket and went to the cafeteria for lunch.
At first, Theodora was content to snooze in my pocket. I thought of it as a tiny hammock, gently lulling her to sleep -- thinking she probably felt the safest she's ever been in her whole 3 years. Kind of dark and warm and comforting -- she could hear my heart beat right next to her fuzzy little head -- probably reminded her of being in her mother's womb.
Unfortunately, Theodora is a curious rat with a fondness for people food. All the students know this because we are always bringing her treats from our lunch left overs. She is very partial to french fries. And to be truthful, I should have should thought of this when making my decision to go into the cafeteria.
All I can say is: I must have been feeling a little heady over my victory over Animal Cruelty so I was mentally composing a letter describing my recent activities to P.E.T.A so I wasn't paying attention. But Theodora was. She knew the minute that Maria heaped the fresh french fries onto the serving platters under the heat lamps. She popped up so fast, I didn't have time to react. I don't know who screamed loudest, Maria or me, as we watched Theodora leap from my pocket and land on top of the heap of fries. I was screaming because I was worried about poor little Theo's tender, unprotected feet on the hot, greasy fries, but I don't think that's why Maria was screaming. I was told later that our screams could be heard all the way up to the office, which is how Mrs. Roderguiz (principal) was the one who caught me red handed with a rat behind the food counter of the cafeteria. I was marched unceremoniously to the office -- though I made a desperate plea on Theodora's behalf to have her poor little feet attended to by a vet. Mrs. R. however, remained impassive. I think, had she not been afraid of rats, she would have pitched dear Theodora into the December cold without a qualm. She is that type of insensitive individual.
I am not very good at lying, and Mrs. R. is a first rate interrogator (I've often wondered if she gives weekend training seminars to FBI agents) -- Anyway, this mix was lethal for me. She had me busted in no time. And was totally unsympathetic to the plight of our rodent friends and the just cause I supported. She lectured me about the ends not justifying the means. It was at that point that she brought Mr. Rudkoski in and I did feel pretty badly when I saw the hives. I tried to offer him some home remedy suggestions my grandma Gans swears by, but this was not received in the spirit with which it was offered. Mrs. R. just got even madder.
While we waited for my parents (yes, she called them!), Mrs. R. made the point of outlining the consequences of my rash actions.
List of Consequences as outlined by Mrs. R.
1. Possible injury to persons in Science lab.
2. Unfortunate allergic reaction to Mr. Rudkoski.
3. Damage to school property.
4. Cancellation of lessons in science wing until it airs out ( I will forever be a school hero for that one!)
5. Snake loose in the school (apparently he escaped in the commotion -- something I did not
for see and now I am very worried about the rodents' safety in the basement.)
6. Publish Health Department had to be called because a rodent was sighted in the cafeteria --
even though I carried it in -- how lame is that?! A waste of tax payers money I'd say --
though when I mentioned that to Mrs. R. she told me I couldn't talk anymore until my
parents came.
Luckily, it didn't occur to Mrs. R. to ask me what I did with the other rodents -- or that would have been #7.
Then she asked me why I shouldn't be suspended from school! Me! Straight A Tanya! Choir club, Chess club, Save the Planet, Computer geek! That kind of took me by surprise.
Mom arrived first, followed by Dad. Can I just mention here that it's never a good thing to drag a busy FBI agent away from his work in the middle of the day? Dad was glowering! Mom looked stunned.! They kept saying, "Tanya? Our Tanya?" over and over again, until I think Mrs. R. took pity on them. I think up until then she was really going to suspend me. I think she was kind of looking forward to it. But, I don't think she could stand to have both my parents' breakdowns on her conscience this close to Christmas. So, she has given me a second chance to be the model student I once was -- with only a 1/2 day suspension and with some conditions.
Conditions Mrs. R. has placed upon my not being suspended.
1. I have to keep this journal for 1 month.
2. I have to do atleast one good deed and record it in this journal every day!
3. I have to reflect on one character flaw a day that I need to change and concentrate on a way
to change it and begin doing so!!!!!!!!!!!! When I told her that I didn't think I could come
up with that many flaws in my character, she said I could come to her and she could help
me out!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And I need to record this in the journal as well.
4. Detention after school every day until Christmas break!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Mrs. R. definitely watches too much Dr. Phil.
Okay so,
1. I've started keeping the journal. Here's the proof.
2. My good deed for today was saving the lives of countless mice and rats (okay -- 7 mice,
2 rats).
3. Character flaw that I would most like to improve on: become a better lier.
I know that if lying came more naturally to me I wouldn't be in this predicament. I could
have talked my way out of all of this. And I mean this in the most positive way. Since I
want to be an FBI agent like Dad, I'll be no good at undercover assignments until I can
lie effectively. So this is an important flaw in my character that stands in the way of the
my future career goals.
Dad had to go back to work but he made me promise to spend the rest of the afternoon in my room reflecting on my actions. Solitary confinement -- just great. So -- this afternoon, I made a really nifty cage for Theodora out of my old Barbie Doll House. I think she really liked having all that space. Then I wrote an emotional letter to P.E.T.A. outlining my courgaeous campaign on behalf of animals who can't speak for themselves. I finished all my math for the week, worked ahead on my English outline and all in all the 1/2 day suspension proved to be quite profitable.
Tonight, after dinner, Mom and Dad gave me the Talk. It was basically a replay of Mrs. R.'s only with the heart rending, sorrowful eye contact thrown in. This nearly broke me down. But I blinked back the tears resolutely, thinking of Theodora upstairs enjoying her first day of freedom lounging in her very own pink canopy bed and I recovered.
They've grounded me for the month!!!!!! This being December -- is disasterous. I don't think they've thought the consequences through. I'm sure I'll be able to think of a way around it -- I mean I've just proven how productive I can be when left to my own devices!
And now -- you want to know what's really unfair? When I went downstairs just now to get some juice, I heard Mom and Dad talking and laughing! And they were talking and laughing about me! So if I'm providing the comic relief here -- why am I being punished?!
Tanya
In my defense, I had no idea that Mr. Rudkoski was still in the science lab when I blew it up.
How was I to know that a teacher who, for every day for the past 32 years of teaching at St. Jerome High School has always left the science department at precisely 12:05 for lunch -- would suddenly divert from his normal routine and decide to grab a sandwich while staying to mark the science midterms?
Today of all days. The day I decide to join forces with my brothers and sisters in P.E.T.A. and liberate the mice and rats which are cruelly being used in experimental science by the 11th grade Biology students. And who could have anticipated Mr. Rudkoski's apparently violent allergic reaction to baking soda? (a key ingredient in my home made 'stink bomb with zip' which I invented myself). I mean, really, -- Baking soda???!!!!
And, anyway, I wouldn't have gotten caught at all if it hadn't been for Theodora. She's the main reason I had to take such extreme measures. Her days -- hours really -- were numbered. She is a simply lovely black hooded rat who has lived most of her life in the same one foot by one foot cage in St. Jerome's science lab -- and now, because of her advancing years -- has been put out to pasture. Her cage placed right next to Grant Dilbert's Biology project -- a baby boa constrictor! Theodora was destined to be the snake's weekly meal in the Biology class at 1:05.
Really, I ask you, what else could I do? Drastic measures require drastic actions -- and if you think being snake food isn't drastic you might want to run that by Theodora.
So, I decided that I would liberate the masses. My plan went off without a hitch (except for Mr. Rudkoski -- and I didn't know about that at the time). Truth be told it is alarmingly easy to lob a stink bomb into the science lab at lunch hour. The school should thank me for pointing out that flaw in their security system. Undercover of it's distraction, I filled the recycling cart I had borrowed with rodent cages and was back in the adjacent hall before the smoke cleared and the stench permeated. No one had any idea it was me. Why should they? Mild mannered A student -- daughter of an FBI agent -- Tanya Gans? So I whipped the recycle cart down to the basement and pretended to sort out the paper from the plastic with the rest of the Green Team -- who, by the way, had no clue that an intruder was in their midst. How observant is that?
But what I really did was release all of the mice and one of the rats into the darkened corners of the basement. I figured their chances of survival there was greater than sitting in cages up in the science lab waiting to be biology experiments and snake food.
I kept Theodora because she was old and I figured had to be traumatized by the whole snake episode -- so I popped her into my blazer pocket and went to the cafeteria for lunch.
At first, Theodora was content to snooze in my pocket. I thought of it as a tiny hammock, gently lulling her to sleep -- thinking she probably felt the safest she's ever been in her whole 3 years. Kind of dark and warm and comforting -- she could hear my heart beat right next to her fuzzy little head -- probably reminded her of being in her mother's womb.
Unfortunately, Theodora is a curious rat with a fondness for people food. All the students know this because we are always bringing her treats from our lunch left overs. She is very partial to french fries. And to be truthful, I should have should thought of this when making my decision to go into the cafeteria.
All I can say is: I must have been feeling a little heady over my victory over Animal Cruelty so I was mentally composing a letter describing my recent activities to P.E.T.A so I wasn't paying attention. But Theodora was. She knew the minute that Maria heaped the fresh french fries onto the serving platters under the heat lamps. She popped up so fast, I didn't have time to react. I don't know who screamed loudest, Maria or me, as we watched Theodora leap from my pocket and land on top of the heap of fries. I was screaming because I was worried about poor little Theo's tender, unprotected feet on the hot, greasy fries, but I don't think that's why Maria was screaming. I was told later that our screams could be heard all the way up to the office, which is how Mrs. Roderguiz (principal) was the one who caught me red handed with a rat behind the food counter of the cafeteria. I was marched unceremoniously to the office -- though I made a desperate plea on Theodora's behalf to have her poor little feet attended to by a vet. Mrs. R. however, remained impassive. I think, had she not been afraid of rats, she would have pitched dear Theodora into the December cold without a qualm. She is that type of insensitive individual.
I am not very good at lying, and Mrs. R. is a first rate interrogator (I've often wondered if she gives weekend training seminars to FBI agents) -- Anyway, this mix was lethal for me. She had me busted in no time. And was totally unsympathetic to the plight of our rodent friends and the just cause I supported. She lectured me about the ends not justifying the means. It was at that point that she brought Mr. Rudkoski in and I did feel pretty badly when I saw the hives. I tried to offer him some home remedy suggestions my grandma Gans swears by, but this was not received in the spirit with which it was offered. Mrs. R. just got even madder.
While we waited for my parents (yes, she called them!), Mrs. R. made the point of outlining the consequences of my rash actions.
List of Consequences as outlined by Mrs. R.
1. Possible injury to persons in Science lab.
2. Unfortunate allergic reaction to Mr. Rudkoski.
3. Damage to school property.
4. Cancellation of lessons in science wing until it airs out ( I will forever be a school hero for that one!)
5. Snake loose in the school (apparently he escaped in the commotion -- something I did not
for see and now I am very worried about the rodents' safety in the basement.)
6. Publish Health Department had to be called because a rodent was sighted in the cafeteria --
even though I carried it in -- how lame is that?! A waste of tax payers money I'd say --
though when I mentioned that to Mrs. R. she told me I couldn't talk anymore until my
parents came.
Luckily, it didn't occur to Mrs. R. to ask me what I did with the other rodents -- or that would have been #7.
Then she asked me why I shouldn't be suspended from school! Me! Straight A Tanya! Choir club, Chess club, Save the Planet, Computer geek! That kind of took me by surprise.
Mom arrived first, followed by Dad. Can I just mention here that it's never a good thing to drag a busy FBI agent away from his work in the middle of the day? Dad was glowering! Mom looked stunned.! They kept saying, "Tanya? Our Tanya?" over and over again, until I think Mrs. R. took pity on them. I think up until then she was really going to suspend me. I think she was kind of looking forward to it. But, I don't think she could stand to have both my parents' breakdowns on her conscience this close to Christmas. So, she has given me a second chance to be the model student I once was -- with only a 1/2 day suspension and with some conditions.
Conditions Mrs. R. has placed upon my not being suspended.
1. I have to keep this journal for 1 month.
2. I have to do atleast one good deed and record it in this journal every day!
3. I have to reflect on one character flaw a day that I need to change and concentrate on a way
to change it and begin doing so!!!!!!!!!!!! When I told her that I didn't think I could come
up with that many flaws in my character, she said I could come to her and she could help
me out!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And I need to record this in the journal as well.
4. Detention after school every day until Christmas break!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Mrs. R. definitely watches too much Dr. Phil.
Okay so,
1. I've started keeping the journal. Here's the proof.
2. My good deed for today was saving the lives of countless mice and rats (okay -- 7 mice,
2 rats).
3. Character flaw that I would most like to improve on: become a better lier.
I know that if lying came more naturally to me I wouldn't be in this predicament. I could
have talked my way out of all of this. And I mean this in the most positive way. Since I
want to be an FBI agent like Dad, I'll be no good at undercover assignments until I can
lie effectively. So this is an important flaw in my character that stands in the way of the
my future career goals.
Dad had to go back to work but he made me promise to spend the rest of the afternoon in my room reflecting on my actions. Solitary confinement -- just great. So -- this afternoon, I made a really nifty cage for Theodora out of my old Barbie Doll House. I think she really liked having all that space. Then I wrote an emotional letter to P.E.T.A. outlining my courgaeous campaign on behalf of animals who can't speak for themselves. I finished all my math for the week, worked ahead on my English outline and all in all the 1/2 day suspension proved to be quite profitable.
Tonight, after dinner, Mom and Dad gave me the Talk. It was basically a replay of Mrs. R.'s only with the heart rending, sorrowful eye contact thrown in. This nearly broke me down. But I blinked back the tears resolutely, thinking of Theodora upstairs enjoying her first day of freedom lounging in her very own pink canopy bed and I recovered.
They've grounded me for the month!!!!!! This being December -- is disasterous. I don't think they've thought the consequences through. I'm sure I'll be able to think of a way around it -- I mean I've just proven how productive I can be when left to my own devices!
And now -- you want to know what's really unfair? When I went downstairs just now to get some juice, I heard Mom and Dad talking and laughing! And they were talking and laughing about me! So if I'm providing the comic relief here -- why am I being punished?!
Tanya
Oh, wow!!! Kav, this is so creative! And funny!!! I have a feeling the parents on our board are going to be rolling, especially over the last few lines!!! What a great start...keep it up!!!
As a parent and a teacher I thought this was truly hysterical. Can't wait for next post! 
Lol That was great
Very well written. It's nice to get to know a new character. Please add more soon
Very well written. It's nice to get to know a new character. Please add more soon
Desperate to read some more Kav! Want to laugh myself silly again!
Please hurry up and post!
Please hurry up and post!
Oh, wow!! What a fantastic idea! At first, I was hesitant since I wasn't sure how compelling a story from one of the kids' POV's would be. But man, am I glad you started writing this, and I started reading it!! Keep up the awesome work!
Oh yes Kav, you have these kiddies pegged! 
That is awesome! I still have to see the Rocket Man episode, so Tanya is a pretty hazy character to me but you make her sound so real, now I think I'll look for those character traits when I finally watch RM. I can already see some more good laughs out of this one!
December 2, 2004
This has been the best/worst day of my life!!!!
First off, I woke up late and my parent’s won’t accept any of the blame – nor make any allowances for the sequence of events that followed – which they should – because it all comes back to my waking up late and being rushed this morning. But they just can’t see the logic in that at all.
Reasons my parents should take Partial Responsibility for My Sleeping In:
1. They bought me the alarm clock that malfunctioned this morning. If they had purchased the cd/tape/radio alarm clock I had picked out, I’m sure none of this would have happened.
2. Once realizing that I had not risen at my usual time (which I have only been doing the whole school year), they did not bother to wake me the old fashioned way – my mom hollering from the kitchen or my dad throwing off my blankets and saying “Rise and shine.”
3. If they let me have a dog like I have been asking for since I could say the word, I could never have slept in because the dog would have woken me up to be let out.
When I finally woke up, I knew right away that something was wrong because the sun was up. I bolted out of bed and raced screaming through the house. I saw my mother first, “Why didn’t you wake me up?!” And my mom said oh so calmly, “Because you’re old enough to be responsible for….blahblahblahblahblah.” Like this is really going to help me race the clock and make it out of here in time. My mom is way too big on Natural Consequences in child rearing.
I ran into my dad in the kitchen and that’s when he told me he hadn’t noticed that I wasn’t up yet. “I could have been kidnapped from my bed…the trail would have been cold by the time you realized I was missing. Are you sure you work for the FBI?– because I thought having keen observational skills was part of the job requirement.” I was sent to my room with my breakfast. (Not so much because of what I said, but the sarcasm with which it was said.) Excuse me!
So inhaling mushy toast (not enough time to really get toasted) and soggy cereal I started to get ready for school. At least I didn’t have to waste any time figuring out what to wear. School uniform pretty much sums that up. So like what am I going to do – dither over this white blouse or that one?
It was while I was emptying my blazer pocket of rat turds from the previous day, that I remembered Theodora. I grabbed some cheerios and went over to her Barbie Dollhouse cage to feed her. She was so cute there on her canopy bed. Lying on her back, all four paws in the air, her little head lying in an unnatural angle on the satin pillow – eyes wide open. Yep, not only was Theodora dead, but rigormortis had set in.
I’ll admit it, I went hysterical. I mean we’d been through so much together, Theodora and I. And to be taken so cruelly from me in the first hours of her freedom, it was just too much for me to bear.
Both my parents came running. I think Dad had his gun partially drawn. They were pretty good about it at first. They let me cry my heart out for a while. But somehow, once I started I couldn’t stop and then Mom lost her patience and said that I had to get control of myself and that it was only a rat that hadn’t even been a pet (through no fault of her own, I might add –Theodora never had that opportunity in her short little life due to the fact that she was a lab rat) and that I was making everyone late. Me! – when she had let me sleep in a whole hour!!!!
Dad was really very sweet about it. Well, at first I thought he was being sweet. He sat on my bed and held me in his arms and rocked me like he used to when I was little and just let me cry. When I had calmed down enough to be aware of my surroundings, I realized that Dad’s whole body was shaking. Looking up I was startled to see a tear sliding down his cheek. I was stunned and touched that my big, strong, FBI agent dad could be so tender hearted and share this anguishing moment with his daughter. Then I noticed his mouth. He was laughing. In fact, he was laughing so hard that he fell off the bed and rolled on the floor, laughing until he cried and I was sooo furious!
I wanted to have the funeral right away, but they wouldn’t let me. Mom wanted to throw Theodora in the garbage!!! David wanted to hold off on the funeral long enough to set up viewing hours so he could charge his friend’s admission to see the dead body. This is a prime example of the crass capitalistic greed that has me worrying about my brother’s eternal soul. Then he said he wanted to do an autopsy to find out the cause of death. Dad pulled me off him in the family room.
David made his bus I did not.
Usually Mom would have made me find my own way to school. (Remember the Natural Consequences method of child rearing) but she asked Dad if he would drive me instead. I’m not sure if she was worried about whether I wouldn’t go to school at all or about the method of transportation I might come up with. That’s when my day started looking up.
Jack Hudson was giving Dad a drive in to work!!! They’d been on a stake out and Jack had dropped Dad off last night instead of driving him back to get his car. I raced around getting ready, my heart going a mile a minute thinking about him. Those eyes! And he so nice and kind and – those brown eyes! – and he doesn’t treat me like some dumb teenager and – those luscious brown eyes! He treats me like a person – and never laughs at me – well hardly ever. I wanted to be ready on time so I just flew out the door the minute I saw his car pull into the driveway.
“Hey Jack,” I said, trying to control my breathing.
“Hi Tanya.” He looked right into my eyes when he said that….and smiled. I was a quivering mass of jello and we hadn’t even started a conversation yet.
“Uh – I missed my bus and mom wants Dad to give me a ride, but well he doesn’t have his car….”
“You need a ride to school, Tanya? No problem. Finish getting ready and we’ll go.” He smiled at me. I get shivers all the way down my spine when he says my name. And his eyes crinkle when he smiles. So there I was in this dreamy lala land and then my dad yanked me into the harsh reality of this cruel world by saying “Tanya what are you doing outside the house without your skirt on?” and I looked down and was so thankful that the blouses mom bought me are way too big and nearly go down to my knees because I had been so excited about seeing Jack that I forgot to put on my skirt!!!!!!
I am so humiliated. I don’t think I will every recover. I had to run back inside the house to my dad and Jack’s laughter.
So, upstairs in my bedroom I threw on my skirt and on my way out the door realized that I had a dead rat lying on my Barbie’s pink canopy bed. I’m not sure how long it takes before a dead body starts to smell….but I didn’t want to find out. So, I scooped Theo up in a couple of Kleenexes and raced downstairs. Mom was down in the laundry room, and Dad was hollering at me to hurry up so everything else that happened is not entirely my fault and I am sure that we will all laugh about it one day – in the far distant future.
I was in the kitchen – backpack in one hand, dead rat in the other. I opened the cupboard and got out the first thing that my hand came in contact with – a corning ware casserole dish. I dropped Theodora inside and closed the lid. I could hear mom coming up the stairs so I opened the freezer door and stashed the casserole dish in there. Theodora would keep nice and preserved for her funeral.
Choosing which side of the back seat to sit on was a very difficult decision. If you sit behind the passenger seat, you can see Jack’s profile the whole time. Sometimes, he’ll turn and look at you when he’s talking. But if you sit directly behind the driver’s seat, you have a much better view of his eyes in the rear view mirror. You can stare at him most of the way and he’ll never know. Plus, sometimes, if he does see that you just happen to be looking in that direction, he winks at you. Talk about dissolving into marshmallow goo!!!!
So it was an enjoyable albeit too short ride to school. And now comes the best part of my day.
Melissa Methrows and her Group the ‘popular’ girls were all hanging out in front of the school. They like to ridicule unsuspecting students by sharing a running commentary about them in voices loud enough to carry several acres. I could tell they were sharpening their claws when they saw me in the back seat of Jack’s car. I must have groaned out loud cause Dad looked over at them and asked. “Those the girls who are giving you trouble?” He was making moves as if to get out of the car.
“Dad – don’t you dare!” I hissed. “You’ll just make it worse.”
“What kind of worse?” Jack asked, eyeing the group of made up Barbie dolls.
“They just like to pick on some of the freshman – that’s all. They dissect us like we’re bugs under a microscope and they think they’re so funny. It’s nothing I can’t handle.” I assured him, trying to appear mature and sophisticated while inside my stomach was doing flip-flops and I hoped they wouldn’t start until he was out of hearing range. I didn’t want to be humiliated all over again.
And that’s when Jack earned my undying love forever. I am ruined for any other man!
He said: “We used to have girls like that in high school. They can get pretty nasty. Wait there, Tanya.” Delicious shivers, he said my name! Then he did the most amazing thing! He got out of the car and opened my door and helped me out! Then he took my backpack and offered me his arm and escorted me all the way into the school while the ‘Group’ gaped with their mouths open like blowfish!!!!!!
“Will you be okay from here?” Jack asked me, like if I said “No” he would have walked me straight to my locker. I don’t think my reply was too coherent but Jack took it to mean he could go. Sigh.
That was the last good thing that happened to me today.
The rest of it is much too traumatic for me to go into right now. I need to distance myself to get it into perspective. Let’s just say that I regretted very much my impulsive call to my Dad’s office at noon. Dad wasn’t there but I got to talk to Sue. So I invited her and Jack to dinner. And she asked Jack and he said yes and she said yes and I was so excited.
But I just can’t go into details yet – maybe tomorrow.
Oh yeah before I forget.
Mrs. R.’s Rules
1. Keeping journal – wish I didn’t have such an eventful life – it’s all I can do to keep up with recording it.
2. My Good Deed for the day – that’s a hard one – I’d have to say that I refrained from beating up my brother this morning. That was the most charitable act of the century.
3. Definitely need to work on my impulsiveness. I have really learned a lesson this time – inviting people to dinner without warning your mom is like…well…dumb
Tanya
This has been the best/worst day of my life!!!!
First off, I woke up late and my parent’s won’t accept any of the blame – nor make any allowances for the sequence of events that followed – which they should – because it all comes back to my waking up late and being rushed this morning. But they just can’t see the logic in that at all.
Reasons my parents should take Partial Responsibility for My Sleeping In:
1. They bought me the alarm clock that malfunctioned this morning. If they had purchased the cd/tape/radio alarm clock I had picked out, I’m sure none of this would have happened.
2. Once realizing that I had not risen at my usual time (which I have only been doing the whole school year), they did not bother to wake me the old fashioned way – my mom hollering from the kitchen or my dad throwing off my blankets and saying “Rise and shine.”
3. If they let me have a dog like I have been asking for since I could say the word, I could never have slept in because the dog would have woken me up to be let out.
When I finally woke up, I knew right away that something was wrong because the sun was up. I bolted out of bed and raced screaming through the house. I saw my mother first, “Why didn’t you wake me up?!” And my mom said oh so calmly, “Because you’re old enough to be responsible for….blahblahblahblahblah.” Like this is really going to help me race the clock and make it out of here in time. My mom is way too big on Natural Consequences in child rearing.
I ran into my dad in the kitchen and that’s when he told me he hadn’t noticed that I wasn’t up yet. “I could have been kidnapped from my bed…the trail would have been cold by the time you realized I was missing. Are you sure you work for the FBI?– because I thought having keen observational skills was part of the job requirement.” I was sent to my room with my breakfast. (Not so much because of what I said, but the sarcasm with which it was said.) Excuse me!
So inhaling mushy toast (not enough time to really get toasted) and soggy cereal I started to get ready for school. At least I didn’t have to waste any time figuring out what to wear. School uniform pretty much sums that up. So like what am I going to do – dither over this white blouse or that one?
It was while I was emptying my blazer pocket of rat turds from the previous day, that I remembered Theodora. I grabbed some cheerios and went over to her Barbie Dollhouse cage to feed her. She was so cute there on her canopy bed. Lying on her back, all four paws in the air, her little head lying in an unnatural angle on the satin pillow – eyes wide open. Yep, not only was Theodora dead, but rigormortis had set in.
I’ll admit it, I went hysterical. I mean we’d been through so much together, Theodora and I. And to be taken so cruelly from me in the first hours of her freedom, it was just too much for me to bear.
Both my parents came running. I think Dad had his gun partially drawn. They were pretty good about it at first. They let me cry my heart out for a while. But somehow, once I started I couldn’t stop and then Mom lost her patience and said that I had to get control of myself and that it was only a rat that hadn’t even been a pet (through no fault of her own, I might add –Theodora never had that opportunity in her short little life due to the fact that she was a lab rat) and that I was making everyone late. Me! – when she had let me sleep in a whole hour!!!!
Dad was really very sweet about it. Well, at first I thought he was being sweet. He sat on my bed and held me in his arms and rocked me like he used to when I was little and just let me cry. When I had calmed down enough to be aware of my surroundings, I realized that Dad’s whole body was shaking. Looking up I was startled to see a tear sliding down his cheek. I was stunned and touched that my big, strong, FBI agent dad could be so tender hearted and share this anguishing moment with his daughter. Then I noticed his mouth. He was laughing. In fact, he was laughing so hard that he fell off the bed and rolled on the floor, laughing until he cried and I was sooo furious!
I wanted to have the funeral right away, but they wouldn’t let me. Mom wanted to throw Theodora in the garbage!!! David wanted to hold off on the funeral long enough to set up viewing hours so he could charge his friend’s admission to see the dead body. This is a prime example of the crass capitalistic greed that has me worrying about my brother’s eternal soul. Then he said he wanted to do an autopsy to find out the cause of death. Dad pulled me off him in the family room.
David made his bus I did not.
Usually Mom would have made me find my own way to school. (Remember the Natural Consequences method of child rearing) but she asked Dad if he would drive me instead. I’m not sure if she was worried about whether I wouldn’t go to school at all or about the method of transportation I might come up with. That’s when my day started looking up.
Jack Hudson was giving Dad a drive in to work!!! They’d been on a stake out and Jack had dropped Dad off last night instead of driving him back to get his car. I raced around getting ready, my heart going a mile a minute thinking about him. Those eyes! And he so nice and kind and – those brown eyes! – and he doesn’t treat me like some dumb teenager and – those luscious brown eyes! He treats me like a person – and never laughs at me – well hardly ever. I wanted to be ready on time so I just flew out the door the minute I saw his car pull into the driveway.
“Hey Jack,” I said, trying to control my breathing.
“Hi Tanya.” He looked right into my eyes when he said that….and smiled. I was a quivering mass of jello and we hadn’t even started a conversation yet.
“Uh – I missed my bus and mom wants Dad to give me a ride, but well he doesn’t have his car….”
“You need a ride to school, Tanya? No problem. Finish getting ready and we’ll go.” He smiled at me. I get shivers all the way down my spine when he says my name. And his eyes crinkle when he smiles. So there I was in this dreamy lala land and then my dad yanked me into the harsh reality of this cruel world by saying “Tanya what are you doing outside the house without your skirt on?” and I looked down and was so thankful that the blouses mom bought me are way too big and nearly go down to my knees because I had been so excited about seeing Jack that I forgot to put on my skirt!!!!!!
I am so humiliated. I don’t think I will every recover. I had to run back inside the house to my dad and Jack’s laughter.
So, upstairs in my bedroom I threw on my skirt and on my way out the door realized that I had a dead rat lying on my Barbie’s pink canopy bed. I’m not sure how long it takes before a dead body starts to smell….but I didn’t want to find out. So, I scooped Theo up in a couple of Kleenexes and raced downstairs. Mom was down in the laundry room, and Dad was hollering at me to hurry up so everything else that happened is not entirely my fault and I am sure that we will all laugh about it one day – in the far distant future.
I was in the kitchen – backpack in one hand, dead rat in the other. I opened the cupboard and got out the first thing that my hand came in contact with – a corning ware casserole dish. I dropped Theodora inside and closed the lid. I could hear mom coming up the stairs so I opened the freezer door and stashed the casserole dish in there. Theodora would keep nice and preserved for her funeral.
Choosing which side of the back seat to sit on was a very difficult decision. If you sit behind the passenger seat, you can see Jack’s profile the whole time. Sometimes, he’ll turn and look at you when he’s talking. But if you sit directly behind the driver’s seat, you have a much better view of his eyes in the rear view mirror. You can stare at him most of the way and he’ll never know. Plus, sometimes, if he does see that you just happen to be looking in that direction, he winks at you. Talk about dissolving into marshmallow goo!!!!
So it was an enjoyable albeit too short ride to school. And now comes the best part of my day.
Melissa Methrows and her Group the ‘popular’ girls were all hanging out in front of the school. They like to ridicule unsuspecting students by sharing a running commentary about them in voices loud enough to carry several acres. I could tell they were sharpening their claws when they saw me in the back seat of Jack’s car. I must have groaned out loud cause Dad looked over at them and asked. “Those the girls who are giving you trouble?” He was making moves as if to get out of the car.
“Dad – don’t you dare!” I hissed. “You’ll just make it worse.”
“What kind of worse?” Jack asked, eyeing the group of made up Barbie dolls.
“They just like to pick on some of the freshman – that’s all. They dissect us like we’re bugs under a microscope and they think they’re so funny. It’s nothing I can’t handle.” I assured him, trying to appear mature and sophisticated while inside my stomach was doing flip-flops and I hoped they wouldn’t start until he was out of hearing range. I didn’t want to be humiliated all over again.
And that’s when Jack earned my undying love forever. I am ruined for any other man!
He said: “We used to have girls like that in high school. They can get pretty nasty. Wait there, Tanya.” Delicious shivers, he said my name! Then he did the most amazing thing! He got out of the car and opened my door and helped me out! Then he took my backpack and offered me his arm and escorted me all the way into the school while the ‘Group’ gaped with their mouths open like blowfish!!!!!!
“Will you be okay from here?” Jack asked me, like if I said “No” he would have walked me straight to my locker. I don’t think my reply was too coherent but Jack took it to mean he could go. Sigh.
That was the last good thing that happened to me today.
The rest of it is much too traumatic for me to go into right now. I need to distance myself to get it into perspective. Let’s just say that I regretted very much my impulsive call to my Dad’s office at noon. Dad wasn’t there but I got to talk to Sue. So I invited her and Jack to dinner. And she asked Jack and he said yes and she said yes and I was so excited.
But I just can’t go into details yet – maybe tomorrow.
Oh yeah before I forget.
Mrs. R.’s Rules
1. Keeping journal – wish I didn’t have such an eventful life – it’s all I can do to keep up with recording it.
2. My Good Deed for the day – that’s a hard one – I’d have to say that I refrained from beating up my brother this morning. That was the most charitable act of the century.
3. Definitely need to work on my impulsiveness. I have really learned a lesson this time – inviting people to dinner without warning your mom is like…well…dumb
Tanya
Oh, Kav...the few people left in my office think I'm an absolute idiot. I'm laughing so hard I'm crying!!! I love this! You're having so much fun with Tanya, and I can see it so clearly!!! Keep it coming!!!
Kav, you are truly amazing!!! Watch out Judy Blume... I think you found a niche!! WOW oh WOW! Excellent, from top to bottom you have a teen down pat!!!
Cant wait to read this as it unfold!!!
Jen
Cant wait to read this as it unfold!!!
Jen
This is SOOO awesome!!!! I loved the way you started it. And like twenty million other parts.
I loved that part. Icould just see D doing that. This story is soo good! I love it! Please post soon! -Steph
QUOTE
I was stunned and touched that my big, strong, FBI agent dad could be so tender hearted and share this anguishing moment with his daughter. Then I noticed his mouth. He was laughing. In fact, he was laughing so hard that he fell off the bed and rolled on the floor, laughing until he cried and I was sooo furious!
I loved that part. Icould just see D doing that. This story is soo good! I love it! Please post soon! -Steph
Sheer brilliance!
Two words: LOVE IT!!!
This is beyond funny.
Poor Tanya - the life of a teenager, full of ups and downs (and the ups are very up and the downs are very down) - she's got a crush on the very crushable
agent Hudson. I wonder if her heart might be broken at dinner with Sue there? I'm sure Jack will still be sweet to Tanya but I'm thinking his attention might be diverted elsewhere. (I'm sure Sue will be observant enough to notice what's going on and clue Jack in.)
Sorry for going on and on - suffice it to say that I love your story and it has piqued my imagination.
Poor Tanya - the life of a teenager, full of ups and downs (and the ups are very up and the downs are very down) - she's got a crush on the very crushable
agent Hudson. I wonder if her heart might be broken at dinner with Sue there? I'm sure Jack will still be sweet to Tanya but I'm thinking his attention might be diverted elsewhere. (I'm sure Sue will be observant enough to notice what's going on and clue Jack in.)Sorry for going on and on - suffice it to say that I love your story and it has piqued my imagination.
OMG, that was priceless! I have now just decided I will have to print this story when it's done to keep it in my new KEEPER's BOOK. That is just too awesome!
Kav I seriously am Oh my gosh, this whole thing is so funny! You are doing an incredible job with the teenage mind. Even David. Oh my, all I could think of was my two 7 yr old grandsons, always looking for creative new ways to earn money. Wakes for dead rats!!! Shall I torture their parents and let them in on the idea??? 
Jack as the knight in shining armour! 
Looking forward to more!
Kav, this is nothing short of a masterpiece!! I'm serious! Your writing makes me wish I understood teenagers as well as you do... and I am one! lol. Really, it is fantastic and I am so glad that you're writing it.. and I actually decided to read it. I'm very anxious to read more!!
Awesome! Very well written 
Hysterical!
that is the word that sums this up for me
I love Tanya, she is such a typical teenager and so funny!
more please!
that is the word that sums this up for me
I love Tanya, she is such a typical teenager and so funny!
more please!
December 3, 2004
You know those sayings:
‘It’s always the darkest before the dawn’ and ‘You’ll feel better in the morning’
Well, they are lies.
I know – I’m still living the nightmare.
So – about last night. It honestly wasn’t my fault this time. I mean, there were a lot of extenuating circumstances. Which include my brother, David – though my parents refused to acknowledge his hand in any of it.
I find it pathetic how adults can so easily foist the blame for unpleasant things on their children. Sometimes I think that’s the only reason Mom and Dad had me. To provide themselves a buffer for their social inadequacies. It can always be Tanya’s fault when things go wrong.
So – to recap – I impulsively called my Dad’s office yesterday to invite Jack for dinner. Only I talked to Sue. So, I didn’t know what to say – except I thought that if I invited Sue to come, maybe Jack would too because he and Sue do a lot together after hours. My Dad jokes and says they should get married they see each other so much. I have to laugh at this. As if. My Dad is totally clueless about matters of the heart.
Of course, the minute I hung up the phone, I knew I’d made a mistake. I mean, Mom can turn kind of dicey about things like bringing my high school friends home unannounced – especially when there’s a meal involved. And I figured it would probably be worse when they were two adults and Dad’s co-workers.
Mom has this thing about the house being tidy and everything just perfect when company comes. As if it’s anything else! Thanks to Slave 1 and Slave 2. I mean, honestly, I don’t know anyone else who has to do as much housework as I do.
When I turned 11, the highlight of my birthday was when my Mom said, “Tanya, I’d like to introduce you to your new best friend.” And then she took me to the washing machine and said, “Tanya, meet Washing Machine. Washing Machine meet Tanya. You’re going to get to know each other really well.” My mother thinks she is so witty. Then she gave me about a 30 second spiel and left me alone with it….and my laundry!!! And she hasn’t ever done my laundry once since! So once a week, WM and I do battle. We are not friends, and never will be. It is volatile, messy, unpredictable and eats socks. Who can be friends with something like that? I don’t do appliances!
Most of my friends have maids who do everything for them. I told my Dad this once and tried to explain how not having a maid was retarding my social development because I couldn’t relate to my peers. It didn’t work. He said that if he thought I was hard done by, he could arrange for me to job shadow a housekeeper at one of my friend’s houses for the day. He’d to it too, so I backed off.
Can you tell I’m trying to avoid getting to the horrid details? Well, of course, I called my Mom right away. I figured I could give her the afternoon to get over being miffed and by the time she came to pick me up after detention, it would all have been forgiven and forgotten. But was she home? No! So I snuck out of class to try again. Did she answer the phone? No! I tried again between classes – still no answer. I mean, really, what’s the point of having a stay at home mom if she doesn’t stay – at – home?!
Desperate by the time the school bell rang at the end of the day, I tried to get out of detention. I went up to Mrs. R. and very politely explained that I was in crisis and asked her very nicely, if I could just postpone my detention for that one day
Mrs. R. kept me 15 minutes later!!! So when my mom came to pick me up at the regular detention ending time – guess who kept her waiting for 15 minutes – well more like 20 by the time I got my stuff from my locker and out of the car. That’s right. Mrs. R.!
So, Mom was not in a very good mood. And when I tried to explain that it wasn’t my fault and started in about Mrs. R., Mom said, “It’s never your fault, Tanya. You have to start taking responsibility not only for your actions, but also for what you say. You don’t think things through.”
Well, what could I say? I was living proof of that statement. So I told Mom what I’d done. About inviting Jack and Sue for dinner…which would be in about an hour and a half due to the lateness of my detention.
Mom had a fit.
I tried to point out that I had called repeatedly and hadn’t been able to reach her; and I gently suggested that perhaps a stay – at – home mom should actually stay at home once in a while. Well she went ballistic! She was practically frothing at the mouth, so she actually pulled over and parked at the side of the rode for ten minutes to calm herself so she could drive us home safely. That’s what she said. Personally, I think she was just messing with my head.
We drove home in silence. We went into the house in silence. She went up into her room in silence, leaving me all alone in the kitchen – me – by myself – with all those cold, calculating, unfeeling appliance mocking me. They all know I can’t cook! And so does mom!
By then it was about half an hour before Dad was due to come home with Jack and Sue. I went up to Mom’s room and gently knocked on the door. She was watching Dr. Phil. That man has a lot to answer for to the youth of America! My mother actually muted the sound and pretended to ask Dr. Phil what she should do about her thoughtless, scatterbrained daughter? Then she ‘listened’ to his answer. Dr. Phil’s mouth was moving and Mom was saying in this deep voice, “Well, Donna, your daughter invited company to dinner, so your daughter should cook the dinner. Blahblahblahblah.” Remember, my mother is Queen of the Natural Consequences method of child rearing. She laughed herself silly because she though she was so funny, and wandered off to have a bath!
I tried to think of some other solution. I really did. But the clock was ticking and I was desperate. How could I make a good impression on Jack, if I couldn’t produce a presentable meal? I was definitely in a red alert level crisis.
So, I tracked down my brother, David. He’s 10. And he can cook. He could get a job as a chef today in some fancy restaurant if he wasn’t so short. He is my mother’s pride and joy. He is the biggest pain in the….
So I asked him very sweetly if he could help his big sister out….
$25.00 later I had negotiated a deal. It would have been $20.00 only he wouldn’t let me pretend I did the cooking. I had to pay an extra $5.00 for that. I told him that was extortion, but he didn’t care. I see my brother’s future – he’s destined to be a loan shark.
And as if that wasn’t enough, I had to be his assistant. In an apron. Taking orders from him. What else could I do?
I’ll admit. I sulked for a bit, but soon there were all these wonderful smells wafting through the kitchen. We were doing Italian. David makes his own sauce – he’s trying to package his own special blend of seasonings. They really do enhance the flavor. He made me do all the nasty jobs. Like I had to chop the onions. And then he had me press the garlic cloves, knowing full well that I would reek of garlic for hours afterwards. Poor Jack – I hoped he wouldn’t notice when he sat next to me at the table. Then he had me grate the cheese, and I lost three knuckles in the process. There is no sacrifice too great for my Jack.! And I think I got most of my skin out of the cheese.
So everything was turning out really well, and Mom came sauntering down the stairs all clean and dressed up and looking wonderful just as Dad walked in with Jack and Sue and Levi. And this part really burns.
Dad says to Mom “Honey you look wonderful. And something smells good. This was a great idea. We don’t have Jack and Sue over enough.”
And Mom says, “Thank you, Dimitrius. I think it’s a great idea too.” !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ugh – gotta go to school.
Will finish this later.
Tanya
You know those sayings:
‘It’s always the darkest before the dawn’ and ‘You’ll feel better in the morning’
Well, they are lies.
I know – I’m still living the nightmare.
So – about last night. It honestly wasn’t my fault this time. I mean, there were a lot of extenuating circumstances. Which include my brother, David – though my parents refused to acknowledge his hand in any of it.
I find it pathetic how adults can so easily foist the blame for unpleasant things on their children. Sometimes I think that’s the only reason Mom and Dad had me. To provide themselves a buffer for their social inadequacies. It can always be Tanya’s fault when things go wrong.
So – to recap – I impulsively called my Dad’s office yesterday to invite Jack for dinner. Only I talked to Sue. So, I didn’t know what to say – except I thought that if I invited Sue to come, maybe Jack would too because he and Sue do a lot together after hours. My Dad jokes and says they should get married they see each other so much. I have to laugh at this. As if. My Dad is totally clueless about matters of the heart.
Of course, the minute I hung up the phone, I knew I’d made a mistake. I mean, Mom can turn kind of dicey about things like bringing my high school friends home unannounced – especially when there’s a meal involved. And I figured it would probably be worse when they were two adults and Dad’s co-workers.
Mom has this thing about the house being tidy and everything just perfect when company comes. As if it’s anything else! Thanks to Slave 1 and Slave 2. I mean, honestly, I don’t know anyone else who has to do as much housework as I do.
When I turned 11, the highlight of my birthday was when my Mom said, “Tanya, I’d like to introduce you to your new best friend.” And then she took me to the washing machine and said, “Tanya, meet Washing Machine. Washing Machine meet Tanya. You’re going to get to know each other really well.” My mother thinks she is so witty. Then she gave me about a 30 second spiel and left me alone with it….and my laundry!!! And she hasn’t ever done my laundry once since! So once a week, WM and I do battle. We are not friends, and never will be. It is volatile, messy, unpredictable and eats socks. Who can be friends with something like that? I don’t do appliances!
Most of my friends have maids who do everything for them. I told my Dad this once and tried to explain how not having a maid was retarding my social development because I couldn’t relate to my peers. It didn’t work. He said that if he thought I was hard done by, he could arrange for me to job shadow a housekeeper at one of my friend’s houses for the day. He’d to it too, so I backed off.
Can you tell I’m trying to avoid getting to the horrid details? Well, of course, I called my Mom right away. I figured I could give her the afternoon to get over being miffed and by the time she came to pick me up after detention, it would all have been forgiven and forgotten. But was she home? No! So I snuck out of class to try again. Did she answer the phone? No! I tried again between classes – still no answer. I mean, really, what’s the point of having a stay at home mom if she doesn’t stay – at – home?!
Desperate by the time the school bell rang at the end of the day, I tried to get out of detention. I went up to Mrs. R. and very politely explained that I was in crisis and asked her very nicely, if I could just postpone my detention for that one day
Mrs. R. kept me 15 minutes later!!! So when my mom came to pick me up at the regular detention ending time – guess who kept her waiting for 15 minutes – well more like 20 by the time I got my stuff from my locker and out of the car. That’s right. Mrs. R.!
So, Mom was not in a very good mood. And when I tried to explain that it wasn’t my fault and started in about Mrs. R., Mom said, “It’s never your fault, Tanya. You have to start taking responsibility not only for your actions, but also for what you say. You don’t think things through.”
Well, what could I say? I was living proof of that statement. So I told Mom what I’d done. About inviting Jack and Sue for dinner…which would be in about an hour and a half due to the lateness of my detention.
Mom had a fit.
I tried to point out that I had called repeatedly and hadn’t been able to reach her; and I gently suggested that perhaps a stay – at – home mom should actually stay at home once in a while. Well she went ballistic! She was practically frothing at the mouth, so she actually pulled over and parked at the side of the rode for ten minutes to calm herself so she could drive us home safely. That’s what she said. Personally, I think she was just messing with my head.
We drove home in silence. We went into the house in silence. She went up into her room in silence, leaving me all alone in the kitchen – me – by myself – with all those cold, calculating, unfeeling appliance mocking me. They all know I can’t cook! And so does mom!
By then it was about half an hour before Dad was due to come home with Jack and Sue. I went up to Mom’s room and gently knocked on the door. She was watching Dr. Phil. That man has a lot to answer for to the youth of America! My mother actually muted the sound and pretended to ask Dr. Phil what she should do about her thoughtless, scatterbrained daughter? Then she ‘listened’ to his answer. Dr. Phil’s mouth was moving and Mom was saying in this deep voice, “Well, Donna, your daughter invited company to dinner, so your daughter should cook the dinner. Blahblahblahblah.” Remember, my mother is Queen of the Natural Consequences method of child rearing. She laughed herself silly because she though she was so funny, and wandered off to have a bath!
I tried to think of some other solution. I really did. But the clock was ticking and I was desperate. How could I make a good impression on Jack, if I couldn’t produce a presentable meal? I was definitely in a red alert level crisis.
So, I tracked down my brother, David. He’s 10. And he can cook. He could get a job as a chef today in some fancy restaurant if he wasn’t so short. He is my mother’s pride and joy. He is the biggest pain in the….
So I asked him very sweetly if he could help his big sister out….
$25.00 later I had negotiated a deal. It would have been $20.00 only he wouldn’t let me pretend I did the cooking. I had to pay an extra $5.00 for that. I told him that was extortion, but he didn’t care. I see my brother’s future – he’s destined to be a loan shark.
And as if that wasn’t enough, I had to be his assistant. In an apron. Taking orders from him. What else could I do?
I’ll admit. I sulked for a bit, but soon there were all these wonderful smells wafting through the kitchen. We were doing Italian. David makes his own sauce – he’s trying to package his own special blend of seasonings. They really do enhance the flavor. He made me do all the nasty jobs. Like I had to chop the onions. And then he had me press the garlic cloves, knowing full well that I would reek of garlic for hours afterwards. Poor Jack – I hoped he wouldn’t notice when he sat next to me at the table. Then he had me grate the cheese, and I lost three knuckles in the process. There is no sacrifice too great for my Jack.! And I think I got most of my skin out of the cheese.
So everything was turning out really well, and Mom came sauntering down the stairs all clean and dressed up and looking wonderful just as Dad walked in with Jack and Sue and Levi. And this part really burns.
Dad says to Mom “Honey you look wonderful. And something smells good. This was a great idea. We don’t have Jack and Sue over enough.”
And Mom says, “Thank you, Dimitrius. I think it’s a great idea too.” !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ugh – gotta go to school.
Will finish this later.
Tanya
Wow, very humorous, and very true to life! I loved it!
Oh, how I love this!!!!! Can't say much more because I'm laughing so hard!!! Thanks for writing and sharing this!!!
December 3, 2004 con’t.
Back from school. You would think 3 weeks before Christmas teachers would get more into the festive spirit of the season and assign less homework. Not mine. They assign more. I tried to tell Mrs. R. in detention today that this journal was cutting into my homework time and maybe we could count it as part of my English mark so I wouldn’t have to do any creative writing for the rest of the month, since technically, I am doing my creative writing here. Mrs. R. says that I’m not supposed to be doing creative writing in this journal. I am supposed to be recording facts in a “contemplative manner” and therefore it shouldn’t take too much of my time. Well, since it’s my journal, I think I should be able to do it with my usual creative flare. And when I pointed out that contemplating properly actually takes more time then merely writing,….well, let’s just say that I now know that the description ‘red as a tomato’ is actually possible. I thought Mrs. R. was going to explode!
Mrs. R. then proceeded to skim through my journal thus far, and dared to attack not only my writing style but also my ability to tell the truth! She thinks I grossly exaggerate and that my father is not an FBI agent – but a government worker!!!!! She also says I over use punctuation and is going to have Mrs. Simms, my English teacher dock marks because of that!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
She said that I was making a mockery out of this exercise, by not taking the character flaw assessment seriously. She said that lying is not an appropriate characteristic to want to cultivate and that refraining from beating up my brother would not be considered a good deed. We are now going to have a little talk at the beginning of each detention when I will tell her my good deed of the day and the character flaw I am going to work on for the next day – so she can approve!!! And if she doesn’t—then she will assign me one!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (there that ought to be good for 5 marks off)
Needless to say today went no better than last night – which brings me back to that shocking moment when my traitorous mother LIED about being glad and Jack and Sue were here for dinner.
Things started out very well. The smells from David’s cooking were very promising, and I had set the table with a linen tablecloth and our real china. I think Sue was pretty impressed, but Jack didn’t notice. Just like a man!
I was just trying to sneak upstairs to change out of my school uniform, but David drafted me back into the kitchen. And so – it’s obvious to me why David has a share in what happened. If he had just let me go on upstairs and get changed, we would have had perfectly pleasant evening and I could have sat across the table from Jack and stared dreamily into his eyes and everything would have been wonderful. But no, David kept me in the kitchen. And he’s my brother; he should have known better.
David told me to put the casserole dish in the oven. He said it was leftover meatballs and he was going to add them to the pasta sauce. He just wanted to thaw them out. Thank goodness our microwave isn’t working.
I put the casserole dish into the oven and cranked it up to 400. David and I got into a heated argument about something – I can never remember what we argue about most of the time – so we didn’t notice the smell at first – even though we were right there in the kitchen. But Mom did. She’s really sensitive to smells lately. She came running in and opened the window and asked what on earth we were cooking? She opened the oven door and the smell just about knocked us over. I plugged my nose and said “Eeeeeeew! David your meatballs must have gone bad!” David took offense to that and went to the freezer and took out another casserole dish exactly like the one I had put in the oven and when he lifted off the lid, we could all see (Dad and Jack and Sue had come in by then) that the meatballs were not in the freezer.
And then I realized what I had done. We were at that very moment roasting poor little Theodora’s remains.
I’m afraid that I went quite hysterical again. There was complete pandemonium – we had to open all the windows in the house, and mom and dad were trying to explain about Theodora to Jack and Sue, but everything was so crazy I think Sue had a hard time keeping track of what was being said, so I’m sure part of the time Sue thought I had deliberately murdered Theodora for dinner!!!!!!!!
When things had settled down somewhat we were still left with a dead rat half roasted in the oven (scorched fur is an awful smell!). My parents were shooting daggers at me – and I felt prompted to remind them that if they’d let me have the funeral this morning none of this would have happened. I knew I was going to be in trouble for that one later. Then David, who had been upset about his wonderful dinner being ruined, brightened considerably at the word funeral. He was all for putting the oven up to 500 and cremating poor Theodora. Dad pulled me off him in the upstairs landing.
We had a funeral in the backyard.
Jack was so brave. He put on my dad’s old barbeque mitts and took Theodora out of the oven and carried her outside. I was going to get a shoebox to bury her in, but Mom let me use the casserole dish. Wasn’t that surprisingly nice of her? She likes those casserole dishes. It gives me hope that I might be forgiven sometime soon.
Levi dug the grave.
Jack placed Theodora down in her corning ware coffin.
Dad and David covered her over.
I said some words about Theodora and her short life. Mom wouldn’t let me go on too long.
Sue said a scripture
It was a very sweet, spiritual service and then David said, “I’m starving what are we going to eat?” And that broke the spell and everyone started laughing.
We ended up going out for pizza. I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate, but Sue assured me that it’s traditional for people to gather together after a funeral and share memories and food. She said I had to come, because I was the only one who really knew Theodora. Put like that, how could I refuse? Plus the house still stunk.
Mom and Dad said I had to pay for the pizza because it was my dinner party and I had ruined the first supper!!!!! Natural consequences again.
But, Jack was really nice and dreamy and I thought it was worth the money just to sit across the table from him and look into his big brown eyes – and he was really nice to me and cracked jokes and made me laugh and kept winking at me! And I got to watch him flirt with Sue….wait a minute….flirt with Sue? My mind can’t process that right now.
After the pizza, Jack snuck me aside and gave me money to pay for it!!! Wasn’t that sweet????
Then, Sue gave me a hug and she gave me some money towards the pizza!!!!!!
Then when we got home and closed all the windows and Mom made me scour the oven – Dad took me aside and gave me the money to pay for the pizza!!!!
So all in all – even after paying David his $25.00 – I made $35.00 profit out of this fiasco!!!!!
Okay Mrs. R.’s rules
1.This is proof I am writing in this journal – and if she doesn’t believe what I write is the gospel truth, there’s nothing I can do about it. Can I help it if I lead an eventful life?
2.Character flaw: kitchen incompetence. Nothing there to work with – must just resign myself to a fate of take-out and frozen dinners.
3.Good deed for the day: assured that a defenseless little rat’s short time on this earth was remembered with respect and love.
Now on to my mountains of homework.
Tanya
Back from school. You would think 3 weeks before Christmas teachers would get more into the festive spirit of the season and assign less homework. Not mine. They assign more. I tried to tell Mrs. R. in detention today that this journal was cutting into my homework time and maybe we could count it as part of my English mark so I wouldn’t have to do any creative writing for the rest of the month, since technically, I am doing my creative writing here. Mrs. R. says that I’m not supposed to be doing creative writing in this journal. I am supposed to be recording facts in a “contemplative manner” and therefore it shouldn’t take too much of my time. Well, since it’s my journal, I think I should be able to do it with my usual creative flare. And when I pointed out that contemplating properly actually takes more time then merely writing,….well, let’s just say that I now know that the description ‘red as a tomato’ is actually possible. I thought Mrs. R. was going to explode!
Mrs. R. then proceeded to skim through my journal thus far, and dared to attack not only my writing style but also my ability to tell the truth! She thinks I grossly exaggerate and that my father is not an FBI agent – but a government worker!!!!! She also says I over use punctuation and is going to have Mrs. Simms, my English teacher dock marks because of that!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
She said that I was making a mockery out of this exercise, by not taking the character flaw assessment seriously. She said that lying is not an appropriate characteristic to want to cultivate and that refraining from beating up my brother would not be considered a good deed. We are now going to have a little talk at the beginning of each detention when I will tell her my good deed of the day and the character flaw I am going to work on for the next day – so she can approve!!! And if she doesn’t—then she will assign me one!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (there that ought to be good for 5 marks off)
Needless to say today went no better than last night – which brings me back to that shocking moment when my traitorous mother LIED about being glad and Jack and Sue were here for dinner.
Things started out very well. The smells from David’s cooking were very promising, and I had set the table with a linen tablecloth and our real china. I think Sue was pretty impressed, but Jack didn’t notice. Just like a man!
I was just trying to sneak upstairs to change out of my school uniform, but David drafted me back into the kitchen. And so – it’s obvious to me why David has a share in what happened. If he had just let me go on upstairs and get changed, we would have had perfectly pleasant evening and I could have sat across the table from Jack and stared dreamily into his eyes and everything would have been wonderful. But no, David kept me in the kitchen. And he’s my brother; he should have known better.
David told me to put the casserole dish in the oven. He said it was leftover meatballs and he was going to add them to the pasta sauce. He just wanted to thaw them out. Thank goodness our microwave isn’t working.
I put the casserole dish into the oven and cranked it up to 400. David and I got into a heated argument about something – I can never remember what we argue about most of the time – so we didn’t notice the smell at first – even though we were right there in the kitchen. But Mom did. She’s really sensitive to smells lately. She came running in and opened the window and asked what on earth we were cooking? She opened the oven door and the smell just about knocked us over. I plugged my nose and said “Eeeeeeew! David your meatballs must have gone bad!” David took offense to that and went to the freezer and took out another casserole dish exactly like the one I had put in the oven and when he lifted off the lid, we could all see (Dad and Jack and Sue had come in by then) that the meatballs were not in the freezer.
And then I realized what I had done. We were at that very moment roasting poor little Theodora’s remains.
I’m afraid that I went quite hysterical again. There was complete pandemonium – we had to open all the windows in the house, and mom and dad were trying to explain about Theodora to Jack and Sue, but everything was so crazy I think Sue had a hard time keeping track of what was being said, so I’m sure part of the time Sue thought I had deliberately murdered Theodora for dinner!!!!!!!!
When things had settled down somewhat we were still left with a dead rat half roasted in the oven (scorched fur is an awful smell!). My parents were shooting daggers at me – and I felt prompted to remind them that if they’d let me have the funeral this morning none of this would have happened. I knew I was going to be in trouble for that one later. Then David, who had been upset about his wonderful dinner being ruined, brightened considerably at the word funeral. He was all for putting the oven up to 500 and cremating poor Theodora. Dad pulled me off him in the upstairs landing.
We had a funeral in the backyard.
Jack was so brave. He put on my dad’s old barbeque mitts and took Theodora out of the oven and carried her outside. I was going to get a shoebox to bury her in, but Mom let me use the casserole dish. Wasn’t that surprisingly nice of her? She likes those casserole dishes. It gives me hope that I might be forgiven sometime soon.
Levi dug the grave.
Jack placed Theodora down in her corning ware coffin.
Dad and David covered her over.
I said some words about Theodora and her short life. Mom wouldn’t let me go on too long.
Sue said a scripture
It was a very sweet, spiritual service and then David said, “I’m starving what are we going to eat?” And that broke the spell and everyone started laughing.
We ended up going out for pizza. I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate, but Sue assured me that it’s traditional for people to gather together after a funeral and share memories and food. She said I had to come, because I was the only one who really knew Theodora. Put like that, how could I refuse? Plus the house still stunk.
Mom and Dad said I had to pay for the pizza because it was my dinner party and I had ruined the first supper!!!!! Natural consequences again.
But, Jack was really nice and dreamy and I thought it was worth the money just to sit across the table from him and look into his big brown eyes – and he was really nice to me and cracked jokes and made me laugh and kept winking at me! And I got to watch him flirt with Sue….wait a minute….flirt with Sue? My mind can’t process that right now.
After the pizza, Jack snuck me aside and gave me money to pay for it!!! Wasn’t that sweet????
Then, Sue gave me a hug and she gave me some money towards the pizza!!!!!!
Then when we got home and closed all the windows and Mom made me scour the oven – Dad took me aside and gave me the money to pay for the pizza!!!!
So all in all – even after paying David his $25.00 – I made $35.00 profit out of this fiasco!!!!!
Okay Mrs. R.’s rules
1.This is proof I am writing in this journal – and if she doesn’t believe what I write is the gospel truth, there’s nothing I can do about it. Can I help it if I lead an eventful life?
2.Character flaw: kitchen incompetence. Nothing there to work with – must just resign myself to a fate of take-out and frozen dinners.
3.Good deed for the day: assured that a defenseless little rat’s short time on this earth was remembered with respect and love.
Now on to my mountains of homework.
Tanya
Now we know why D spends so much time in the office... that's the only spot he can relax.
Oh, man!!! I was laughing so hard my co-worker sitting next to me had to log in and read too!!! She's has a teenager!!! Good thing it's a quiet day in the office!
This is fabulous! I have a 13 year old girl (going on 25) and an 11 year old girl (going on 17). It has taken everything in my power not to fall off my chair :laughs: and roll on the floor. I have literally placed myself in the story and I can see my 13 year old. I have never quite been able to see my life in words. Kudos.
So funny! I had to shut the office door so no one could hear me laughing!
As always, that was absolutely hilarious and a wonderfully entertaining read! Man, do you have a gift for humor or what??!!
Awesome job!
Very creative and funny! Keep up the good work and please add more soon
Very creative and funny! Keep up the good work and please add more soon
Kav this is brilliant! I don't think I have laughed so hard in a long time! Hmmm, maybe your last post!
Your gift with humor and the insight to the mind of a 13 yr old living in a world that belongs to her and her alone is just
I loved Mom's sacrifice giving up her casserole dish for the rat's coffin!
Well, I could go on and on but I have to get back to my story! Can't wait for more!
Ok I know it must take lots of effort to be such a comic genius! But wheres the next post? Eagerly awaiting the next instalment! It's the weekend perhaps we will get a multiple post treat? :whistle:
This is awesome...very funny!! 
-chrisy-
-chrisy-
OM! This fanfic is absolutely amazing! Seriously brilliant to put the character's lives in the view of a teenager! I can't tell you how realistic this is though...lol...The whole scene in the kitchen and the fact that Tanya had to pay her sibling because she can't cook...lol! That would so be me and my sister...unfortunately the culinary gene did not grace me as it did my sister!
And the whole Tanya being in love with Jack's eyes...very cute! Can't wait to see how she helps the J/S situation!
You had me laughing so hard reading each post! I can see all of this happening as you describe it! The fact that this takes place around Christmas is a serious bonus as well...
ok done rambling...but I just wanted to let you know I am really, really enjoying this story! Keep up the awesome work! Totally looking forward to more!
And the whole Tanya being in love with Jack's eyes...very cute! Can't wait to see how she helps the J/S situation!
You had me laughing so hard reading each post! I can see all of this happening as you describe it! The fact that this takes place around Christmas is a serious bonus as well...
ok done rambling...but I just wanted to let you know I am really, really enjoying this story! Keep up the awesome work! Totally looking forward to more!
Kav, I am so glad that I decided to check this story out!! It is absolutely wonderful, and a welcome relief from the angst I'm used to reading (and partially responsible for ) on the board. You've done a brilliant job of capturing the thoughts of a teenage girl, from her annoyance with her parents and younger brother, to her problems with the 'popular' girls at school, to her adorable crush on Jack. I'm going to be watching for new posts from you!
) on the board. You've done a brilliant job of capturing the thoughts of a teenage girl, from her annoyance with her parents and younger brother, to her problems with the 'popular' girls at school, to her adorable crush on Jack. I'm going to be watching for new posts from you!
December 4, 2004
Today is an epic day in my life. It’s the day I became a woman.
It started out just like any other ordinary day. Being the weekend, I slept late. I dreamed about Jack all night long. He was my knight in shining armor and he saved me from giant rats that were trying to kill me because I burned one of their own at the stake. It was a really harrowing dream due to the past events with Theodora and all, but it turned out all right in the end. Jack vanquished the killer rats with his smile. That’s all it took! It seems that they were all female rats and they simply melted away when he turned on his charm. How poetic is that?
So I woke up with a smile on my face…until I noticed”
My period started!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I wonder if it’s prophetic to dream about a man the night you become a woman? Like maybe we’re destined for each other?
So, I took care of things and went downstairs and casually went up to my Mom and said in a really low voice, “I started.” Because my Dad was in the same room. But she didn’t get it.
“Start what?”
“Mom! You know!”
“Oh Tanya – I don’t think I can handle anything else right now. What ever you’ve started – you can stop it. Now.”
“Uh – Mom, I don’t think so.”
“Is one quiet weekend too much to ask in this family?” She was heading for a major rant.
“Yo, Mom!” I tried to get her attention – and then I mouthed “my period” because my Dad was right there and this is strictly girl business. Well, the light bulb finally went off in my Mom’s head – no dim energy efficient one either – it had to be about 1000 watts.
“Oh Tanya! Baby!” She squealed like some cheerleader so my dad looked up from his paper and she totally ignored my frantic hand gestures and said: “You started your period! Oh Dimitrius did you hear that, our baby’s a woman now!”
And as I am totally dying of mortification, my dad looked really awkward and my Mom burst into tears! So there was my Dad trying to comfort my mother and trying not to look at me and me just wanting the floor to up and swallow me and David came running in and said, “What did you do now?” to me – like my emotionally basket case mother is all my fault!
I nearly died when my dad said, “Your sister just started her period. That’s all.” So now both my dad and my brother know this private girl/woman thing and I was totally humiliated.
My brother glared at me: actually glared at me and said, “You could have timed it better – she’ll be too upset to eat the breakfast I’m cooking.” As if I could just put it on my things to do list. Saturday December 4 - must remember to start period.
But then Mom got all excited because David had made this great breakfast. She called it a Celebratory Brunch. We had to eat in the dining room (which was still set up all fancy from last night). While we ate Mom called people to tell them the news. They all wanted to congratulate me…some wanted a detailed play by play –ooow – gross!!!!!
My Grandma Gans said I should start drinking raspberry tea. And my Grandma Mitchell told me that I had to sit with my legs together all the time now. She kept emphasizing that. I don’t know why.
It was all pretty torturous. I don’t know why my family can’t be normal. My friend Stacey’s mom just tossed her a package of Kotex and gave her a thumbs up.
David’s new recipe was amazing. It’s this cinnamon bread – well he made these long, skinny ropes of bread dough, rolled them in melted butter, then dipped them in cinnamon and brown sugar and baked them – hmmmm yummy! He wouldn’t tell us what they were called until we’d finished eating. Then he told me he was inspired last night. And decided to make a dish to commemorate the events. He named the new recipe ‘rat’s tails’ and then he mocked me by gloating that I had eaten rat.
Dad pulled me off him in the living room. He said now that I was a woman I should start acting like one. He said I was getting too big for him to be hauling me off my brother. I told him he should thank me for providing him with a free cardio and bench press workout. He was not amused.
So my mom went off to Christmas shop with my Aunt Tish and David went to a friend’s house for the day and there I was grounded – looking forward (not!) to being a prisoner in my own house. And there was Dad playing warden to my prisoner. And then the fates intervened and my knight in shining armor came to rescue me. Well he called.
They were getting together for an impromptu football game because the weather was so good and wanted to know if Dad could make it. I could tell Dad was torn. So, I pushed him over the edge. I hung around his elbows and glowered and said “I am not going to hang around some park all day while you play football.” Which pretty much decided him. He said, “Jack, we’ll be right there. Tanya’s coming too.” Then he looked at me sternly and said “You will do as you are told, young lady. March up those stairs and put on something warm. We’re leaving in 5.” So I flounced out in a huff – grinning like an idiot – Dad is so much easier to handle then Mom.
I sat on the sidelines with Tara and watched. I didn’t want to play; my tummy was feeling funny. Though I did think about going on the opposite team in the hopes of being tackled by Jack, but they were playing touch football, and Tara looked lonely.
“How come you don’t play?” I asked her.
“They won’t let me.” She said.
How mean is that? Talk about bullying – and these aren’t just adults – they’re FBI adults – whose guiding principles are supposed to be: respect for dignity, fairness, compassion and personal integrity. I have memorized this because I want to be an FBI agent when I graduate.
So I cornered my Dad in a huddle. And I asked him why (after quoting the FBI’s guiding principles) Tara was not allowed to play. Everybody looked uncomfortable and they all had excuses. When my dad said “Tanya – you really have no idea…” I just gave him ‘the look’ which my dad gives me all the time when he thinks I’m out of line. He caved. Tara was in.
She was so excited and grateful, it was pathetic. And the game went pretty well for a while. I mean, Tara wasn’t the greatest player or anything and she did seem to get confused a lot about which way she should run and she seemed to forget it was touch football and ended up tackling Myles a lot and he was on her team. But for a friendly game of football little things like that aren’t important. Everyone was having fun. Until….
First I just want to say – it wasn’t all Tara’s fault. Co-ordination and athletic skills are something you are either born with or you’re not.
Tara was up for a placekick. I noticed how everybody stayed way back. But this was football after all, and you’re expected to go after the ball so I figured they were all getting a head start. Myles drew the shortest straw so he had to hold the ball. I didn't know that was part of the rules in football. But apparently it is. Tara couldn’t help that her foot slipped. It could have happened to anyone. As a result, though, she accidentally kicked Myles in the face. His nose wasn’t broken or anything, but there was a lot of blood. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only part of Myles’ body that Tara’s foot made contact with. On it’s way down she kind of stomped on…well the place my dad has always told me to kick if some guy tries to haul me into his van. Myles doubled over immediately.
Sue got the bleeding stopped pretty fast. She’s really good at emergency first aid. We cleaned Myles up the best we could with some bottled water and Kleenex. He was pretty presentable by the time we got to the restaurant, and limping only slightly.
The restaurant was really packed. It’s the regular they always go to after they play football. I don’t usually come along, so the owners made a big fuss about me. We couldn’t all sit at one table so we divided up and the girls all sat together and the boys all sat together.
Tara and I commiserated over deep-dish hot fudge sundaes. Tara is to the football field what I am to the kitchen.
People often point out how rowdy and disruptive teenagers are in public places. I just want to say that we can’t hold a candle to a bunch of FBI agents after a football game. The guys were all doing outrageous things to get the girls’ attention. I felt like I was in the cafeteria at school. Their antics rivaled anything St. Jereome’s football team could dish out.
“My mom says when guys act like buffoons, they’re flirting with a girl. So which one of us do you think Jack is flirting with?” I asked bravely, hoping that someone else might notice the obvious. But Lucy and Tara started laughing and looking at Sue and then Sue turned beet red. Then I started thinking about last night when we went out for pizza…and the fact that Jack and Sue came together in the same car…and how he helped her on with her coat…and how he made sure he sat next to her…they even stood side by side at Theodora’s funeral!
So, I did my first covert operation, sitting at the table in that restaurant and this is what I noticed:
Jack looked at Sue a total of 23 times in a half an hour, when she wasn’t looking over at him.
Sue looked at Jack a total of 21 times in half an hour, when he wasn’t looking over at her.
Their looks collided a total of 4 times, at which point both parties blushed
Sue was the first one to look away 3 of the times.
Jack winked at her twice
Jack did not look at me once.
I am so devastated that I can’t write anymore!
Except:
Mrs. R’s rules (which were supposed to be at the top of this but aren’t it’s too late now.)
1. I am still keeping this journal
2. My good deed for the day was well-intentioned; I did get Tara off the sidelines and into the game – what happened afterwards was not my doing and no one can say otherwise
3. Character flaw: I’m too willing to open my heart for it to be trampled all over. Must learn to become more hardhearted like Mrs. R.
I will never fall in love again. It is too painful!
Tanya
P.S. I had never really noticed Bobby’s dimples before…
Today is an epic day in my life. It’s the day I became a woman.
It started out just like any other ordinary day. Being the weekend, I slept late. I dreamed about Jack all night long. He was my knight in shining armor and he saved me from giant rats that were trying to kill me because I burned one of their own at the stake. It was a really harrowing dream due to the past events with Theodora and all, but it turned out all right in the end. Jack vanquished the killer rats with his smile. That’s all it took! It seems that they were all female rats and they simply melted away when he turned on his charm. How poetic is that?
So I woke up with a smile on my face…until I noticed”
My period started!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I wonder if it’s prophetic to dream about a man the night you become a woman? Like maybe we’re destined for each other?
So, I took care of things and went downstairs and casually went up to my Mom and said in a really low voice, “I started.” Because my Dad was in the same room. But she didn’t get it.
“Start what?”
“Mom! You know!”
“Oh Tanya – I don’t think I can handle anything else right now. What ever you’ve started – you can stop it. Now.”
“Uh – Mom, I don’t think so.”
“Is one quiet weekend too much to ask in this family?” She was heading for a major rant.
“Yo, Mom!” I tried to get her attention – and then I mouthed “my period” because my Dad was right there and this is strictly girl business. Well, the light bulb finally went off in my Mom’s head – no dim energy efficient one either – it had to be about 1000 watts.
“Oh Tanya! Baby!” She squealed like some cheerleader so my dad looked up from his paper and she totally ignored my frantic hand gestures and said: “You started your period! Oh Dimitrius did you hear that, our baby’s a woman now!”
And as I am totally dying of mortification, my dad looked really awkward and my Mom burst into tears! So there was my Dad trying to comfort my mother and trying not to look at me and me just wanting the floor to up and swallow me and David came running in and said, “What did you do now?” to me – like my emotionally basket case mother is all my fault!
I nearly died when my dad said, “Your sister just started her period. That’s all.” So now both my dad and my brother know this private girl/woman thing and I was totally humiliated.
My brother glared at me: actually glared at me and said, “You could have timed it better – she’ll be too upset to eat the breakfast I’m cooking.” As if I could just put it on my things to do list. Saturday December 4 - must remember to start period.
But then Mom got all excited because David had made this great breakfast. She called it a Celebratory Brunch. We had to eat in the dining room (which was still set up all fancy from last night). While we ate Mom called people to tell them the news. They all wanted to congratulate me…some wanted a detailed play by play –ooow – gross!!!!!
My Grandma Gans said I should start drinking raspberry tea. And my Grandma Mitchell told me that I had to sit with my legs together all the time now. She kept emphasizing that. I don’t know why.
It was all pretty torturous. I don’t know why my family can’t be normal. My friend Stacey’s mom just tossed her a package of Kotex and gave her a thumbs up.
David’s new recipe was amazing. It’s this cinnamon bread – well he made these long, skinny ropes of bread dough, rolled them in melted butter, then dipped them in cinnamon and brown sugar and baked them – hmmmm yummy! He wouldn’t tell us what they were called until we’d finished eating. Then he told me he was inspired last night. And decided to make a dish to commemorate the events. He named the new recipe ‘rat’s tails’ and then he mocked me by gloating that I had eaten rat.
Dad pulled me off him in the living room. He said now that I was a woman I should start acting like one. He said I was getting too big for him to be hauling me off my brother. I told him he should thank me for providing him with a free cardio and bench press workout. He was not amused.
So my mom went off to Christmas shop with my Aunt Tish and David went to a friend’s house for the day and there I was grounded – looking forward (not!) to being a prisoner in my own house. And there was Dad playing warden to my prisoner. And then the fates intervened and my knight in shining armor came to rescue me. Well he called.
They were getting together for an impromptu football game because the weather was so good and wanted to know if Dad could make it. I could tell Dad was torn. So, I pushed him over the edge. I hung around his elbows and glowered and said “I am not going to hang around some park all day while you play football.” Which pretty much decided him. He said, “Jack, we’ll be right there. Tanya’s coming too.” Then he looked at me sternly and said “You will do as you are told, young lady. March up those stairs and put on something warm. We’re leaving in 5.” So I flounced out in a huff – grinning like an idiot – Dad is so much easier to handle then Mom.
I sat on the sidelines with Tara and watched. I didn’t want to play; my tummy was feeling funny. Though I did think about going on the opposite team in the hopes of being tackled by Jack, but they were playing touch football, and Tara looked lonely.
“How come you don’t play?” I asked her.
“They won’t let me.” She said.
How mean is that? Talk about bullying – and these aren’t just adults – they’re FBI adults – whose guiding principles are supposed to be: respect for dignity, fairness, compassion and personal integrity. I have memorized this because I want to be an FBI agent when I graduate.
So I cornered my Dad in a huddle. And I asked him why (after quoting the FBI’s guiding principles) Tara was not allowed to play. Everybody looked uncomfortable and they all had excuses. When my dad said “Tanya – you really have no idea…” I just gave him ‘the look’ which my dad gives me all the time when he thinks I’m out of line. He caved. Tara was in.
She was so excited and grateful, it was pathetic. And the game went pretty well for a while. I mean, Tara wasn’t the greatest player or anything and she did seem to get confused a lot about which way she should run and she seemed to forget it was touch football and ended up tackling Myles a lot and he was on her team. But for a friendly game of football little things like that aren’t important. Everyone was having fun. Until….
First I just want to say – it wasn’t all Tara’s fault. Co-ordination and athletic skills are something you are either born with or you’re not.
Tara was up for a placekick. I noticed how everybody stayed way back. But this was football after all, and you’re expected to go after the ball so I figured they were all getting a head start. Myles drew the shortest straw so he had to hold the ball. I didn't know that was part of the rules in football. But apparently it is. Tara couldn’t help that her foot slipped. It could have happened to anyone. As a result, though, she accidentally kicked Myles in the face. His nose wasn’t broken or anything, but there was a lot of blood. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only part of Myles’ body that Tara’s foot made contact with. On it’s way down she kind of stomped on…well the place my dad has always told me to kick if some guy tries to haul me into his van. Myles doubled over immediately.
Sue got the bleeding stopped pretty fast. She’s really good at emergency first aid. We cleaned Myles up the best we could with some bottled water and Kleenex. He was pretty presentable by the time we got to the restaurant, and limping only slightly.
The restaurant was really packed. It’s the regular they always go to after they play football. I don’t usually come along, so the owners made a big fuss about me. We couldn’t all sit at one table so we divided up and the girls all sat together and the boys all sat together.
Tara and I commiserated over deep-dish hot fudge sundaes. Tara is to the football field what I am to the kitchen.
People often point out how rowdy and disruptive teenagers are in public places. I just want to say that we can’t hold a candle to a bunch of FBI agents after a football game. The guys were all doing outrageous things to get the girls’ attention. I felt like I was in the cafeteria at school. Their antics rivaled anything St. Jereome’s football team could dish out.
“My mom says when guys act like buffoons, they’re flirting with a girl. So which one of us do you think Jack is flirting with?” I asked bravely, hoping that someone else might notice the obvious. But Lucy and Tara started laughing and looking at Sue and then Sue turned beet red. Then I started thinking about last night when we went out for pizza…and the fact that Jack and Sue came together in the same car…and how he helped her on with her coat…and how he made sure he sat next to her…they even stood side by side at Theodora’s funeral!
So, I did my first covert operation, sitting at the table in that restaurant and this is what I noticed:
Jack looked at Sue a total of 23 times in a half an hour, when she wasn’t looking over at him.
Sue looked at Jack a total of 21 times in half an hour, when he wasn’t looking over at her.
Their looks collided a total of 4 times, at which point both parties blushed
Sue was the first one to look away 3 of the times.
Jack winked at her twice
Jack did not look at me once.
I am so devastated that I can’t write anymore!
Except:
Mrs. R’s rules (which were supposed to be at the top of this but aren’t it’s too late now.)
1. I am still keeping this journal
2. My good deed for the day was well-intentioned; I did get Tara off the sidelines and into the game – what happened afterwards was not my doing and no one can say otherwise
3. Character flaw: I’m too willing to open my heart for it to be trampled all over. Must learn to become more hardhearted like Mrs. R.
I will never fall in love again. It is too painful!
Tanya
P.S. I had never really noticed Bobby’s dimples before…
HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE
Kav, you just hit another one out of the park! What an awesome post to wake up to!!! Love this!!! More?????
SIDENOTE: Gotta PM nicu that another post is here...Woo Hoo!!!
Kav, you just hit another one out of the park! What an awesome post to wake up to!!! Love this!!! More?????
SIDENOTE: Gotta PM nicu that another post is here...Woo Hoo!!!
Here is a little list of my reactions through that post:
I started to smile.
I laughed uncontrollably with tears streaming down my face. And it went on and on and on and on..........
and on and on and on..........
OK i just realised i'm quoting the whole thing so i'm just going to stop now as i'm sure your getting the idea!
QUOTE
Today is an epic day in my life. It’s the day I became a woman.
I started to smile.
QUOTE
“Yo, Mom!” I tried to get her attention – and then I mouthed “my period” because my Dad was right there and this is strictly girl business. Well, the light bulb finally went off in my Mom’s head – no dim energy efficient one other – it had to be about 1000 watts.
“Oh Tanya! Baby!” She squealed like some cheerleader so my dad looked up from his paper and she totally ignored my frantic hand gestures and said: “You started your period! Oh Dimitrius did you hear that, our baby’s a woman now!”
And as I am totally dying of mortification, my dad looked really awkward and my Mom burst into tears! So there was my Dad trying to comfort my mother and trying not to look at me and me just wanting the floor to up and swallow me and David came running in and said, “What did you do now?” to me – like my emotionally basket case mother is all my fault!
I nearly died when my dad said, “Your sister just started her period. That’s all.” So now both my dad and my brother know this private girl/woman thing and I was totally humiliated.
My brother glared at me: actually glared at me and said, “You could have timed it better – she’ll be too upset to eat the breakfast I’m cooking.” As if I could just put it on my things to do list. Saturday December 4 - must remember to start period.
But then Mom got all excited because David had made this great breakfast. She called it a Celebratory Brunch. We had to eat in the dining room (which was still set up all fancy from last night). While we ate Mom called people to tell them the news. They all wanted to congratulate me…some wanted a detailed play by play –ooow – gross!!!!!
My Grandma Gans said I should start drinking raspberry tea. And my Grandma Mitchell told me that I had to sit with my legs together all the time now. She kept emphasizing that. I don’t know why.
“Oh Tanya! Baby!” She squealed like some cheerleader so my dad looked up from his paper and she totally ignored my frantic hand gestures and said: “You started your period! Oh Dimitrius did you hear that, our baby’s a woman now!”
And as I am totally dying of mortification, my dad looked really awkward and my Mom burst into tears! So there was my Dad trying to comfort my mother and trying not to look at me and me just wanting the floor to up and swallow me and David came running in and said, “What did you do now?” to me – like my emotionally basket case mother is all my fault!
I nearly died when my dad said, “Your sister just started her period. That’s all.” So now both my dad and my brother know this private girl/woman thing and I was totally humiliated.
My brother glared at me: actually glared at me and said, “You could have timed it better – she’ll be too upset to eat the breakfast I’m cooking.” As if I could just put it on my things to do list. Saturday December 4 - must remember to start period.
But then Mom got all excited because David had made this great breakfast. She called it a Celebratory Brunch. We had to eat in the dining room (which was still set up all fancy from last night). While we ate Mom called people to tell them the news. They all wanted to congratulate me…some wanted a detailed play by play –ooow – gross!!!!!
My Grandma Gans said I should start drinking raspberry tea. And my Grandma Mitchell told me that I had to sit with my legs together all the time now. She kept emphasizing that. I don’t know why.
I laughed uncontrollably with tears streaming down my face. And it went on and on and on and on..........
QUOTE
“How come you don’t play?” I asked her.
“They won’t let me.” She said.
How mean is that? Talk about bullying – and these aren’t just adults – they’re FBI adults – whose guiding principles are supposed to be: respect for dignity, fairness, compassion and personal integrity. I have memorized this because I want to be an FBI agent when I graduate.
So I cornered my Dad in a huddle. And I asked him why (after quoting the FBI’s guiding principles) Tara was not allowed to play. Everybody looked uncomfortable and they all had excuses. When my dad said “Tanya – you really have no idea…” I just gave him ‘the look’ which my dad gives me all the time when he thinks I’m out of line. He caved. Tara was in.
She was so excited and grateful, it was pathetic. And the game went pretty well for a while. I mean, Tara wasn’t the greatest player or anything and she did seem to get confused a lot about which way she should run and she seemed to forget it was touch football and ended up tackling Myles a lot and he was on her team. But for a friendly game of football little things like that aren’t important. Everyone was having fun. Until….
First I just want to say – it wasn’t all Tara’s fault. Co-ordination and athletic skills are something you are either born with or you’re not.
“They won’t let me.” She said.
How mean is that? Talk about bullying – and these aren’t just adults – they’re FBI adults – whose guiding principles are supposed to be: respect for dignity, fairness, compassion and personal integrity. I have memorized this because I want to be an FBI agent when I graduate.
So I cornered my Dad in a huddle. And I asked him why (after quoting the FBI’s guiding principles) Tara was not allowed to play. Everybody looked uncomfortable and they all had excuses. When my dad said “Tanya – you really have no idea…” I just gave him ‘the look’ which my dad gives me all the time when he thinks I’m out of line. He caved. Tara was in.
She was so excited and grateful, it was pathetic. And the game went pretty well for a while. I mean, Tara wasn’t the greatest player or anything and she did seem to get confused a lot about which way she should run and she seemed to forget it was touch football and ended up tackling Myles a lot and he was on her team. But for a friendly game of football little things like that aren’t important. Everyone was having fun. Until….
First I just want to say – it wasn’t all Tara’s fault. Co-ordination and athletic skills are something you are either born with or you’re not.
and on and on and on..........
OK i just realised i'm quoting the whole thing so i'm just going to stop now as i'm sure your getting the idea!
Oh my goodness, Kav!! You really are so very good at this! I think it was Gershwin who warned Judy Blume to watch out---I have to ditto that remark. This is amazing!! If I quoted the parts I liked the best, the entire post would be quoted below. So let me just say that I loved the whole thing and can't wait for more!
OMG that was hilarious! I just couldn't stop laughing as I was reading. You are definitely an author to put on my watchlist. You have such great talent!
Keep it up and please please please POST MORE SOON!!!
You really capture the thinking of a 12 year old! This is great!
Wow!! What an amazing post! But, it's not like I expected anything else. I loved it. You really do capture a young teen's perspective, how their thinking is on a completely different spectrum than an adult, and how each little thing is so much bigger to them. It's absolutely perfect. Poor Myles!! And, poor Tara!
And of course... Poor Tanya! lol.
Keep up the splendid work, Kav!
I loved it. You really do capture a young teen's perspective, how their thinking is on a completely different spectrum than an adult, and how each little thing is so much bigger to them. It's absolutely perfect. Poor Myles!! And, poor Tara!And of course... Poor Tanya! lol.
Keep up the splendid work, Kav!
December 5, 2004
I think that Mrs. R. is spying on me.
You’d think I would be saved from seeing her because it’s Sunday. But, alas, that was not my fate. My heart broken yesterday, Mrs. R. is trying to break my will today. I won’t let her. Dad says Eventful is my middle name.
I have never run into Mrs. R. at church before. Suffice to say 5 days of Mrs. R. a week should be good enough for anyone – frankly, overkill for this girl. So I expect my weekends to be Mrs. R. free. In fact, I count on it. That’s what gets me through the next five days.
We go to the late mass – it’s got half an hour of music before hand and a funky priest and most of the congregation is made up of families – lots of kids. Most of the older people (like Mrs. R.) go to the earlier mass, which is pretty childfree. Think of the irony – the principal who can’t stand kids so much she has to get up at 6:00 in the morning on a Sunday just so she can go to a kid-free church service. The school board should investigate.
So today, I thought, was pretty much mapped out for me. I like one predictable day in the week. Church in the morning is the beginning of that predictability. So imagine my horror when the first person I saw as I walked into church was Mrs. R. She was just standing there, laying in wait, I’m sure. I would have run screaming from the church only Mom and Dad and David were right behind me.
Then, Mrs. R. looked right at me and beckoned. I’ll admit, I panicked. Who wouldn’t? I pretended not to notice. I looked everywhere but at her. Out of the corner of my eye I could tell she was still trying to get my attention. Pretty soon my parents would start to notice.
Normally I go in for the music portion and then I volunteer in the Nursery during the Service. This keeps me going to church, which pleases my parents, and keeps me out of mass, which pleases me. I also do a lot of networking for my babysitting business.
But Mrs. R. freaked me out so much that I didn’t stick around for the music but headed straight for the Nursery. It was Christmas Carols too – and I love Christmas Carols. Mom thought it was because I wasn’t feeling very well. I told her, I’d heard they were short staffed for that half-hour, so I would just go check it out. I had to sneak around by the kitchen and down the back stairs in order to avoid Mrs. R. at her post in the front,
Nursery really isn’t so bad. I’m the youngest who volunteers. I’ve been doing it since I was 12 – they’d never had a kid work before. They’re used to me now, and everyone gets along great, and the babies really like me. That’s one good thing about me. I’m really good with babies. So it works out for everyone….most of the time.
I just want to make one thing clear right now. It was positively, absolutely, indubitably NOT my fault. No one can even try to say it was; except Mrs. R. and she didn’t quite dare because my parents were there.
There’s a knack to getting a baby to burp. Some babies have to be pounded on their back really hard to produce the teeniest of burps. Others just have to be patted gently and give you a Beethoven’s fifth in melodious belches. Then there’s some that you just look at and they lose it. Timmy was one of those babies. Lots of the volunteers didn’t like to take care of him, but I’d caught onto the trick of dealing with Little Timmy Splatter. He has an unfortunate name – Timmy is a projectile vomiter.
Personally, if I had a baby who projectile vomited all the time, I wouldn’t feed him just before church. It’s a little insensitive to the volunteers. I’ve learned the intricacies of little Timmy, though and Mrs. Splatter knew she was leaving him in capable hands. Aside from being a projectiler, Timmy is quite a cute baby. And very good-natured.
So, rule #1 when dealing with babies like Timmy. Always have the baby facing out!!!! This is very important; can’t be emphasized enough. So I was holding little Timmy with his body turned out when Mrs. R. came storming into the nursery after me. She looked down her nose at me and said she had something she wanted to tell me in front of Father Tom. She said it was urgent and I should come with her now. The nerve! We were on my time now, and my turf. I bet she’d never set foot in the nursery before today. So, I told Mrs. R. politely, but pointedly that I was busy at the moment (as she could well see) and was sorry but it wasn’t possible for me to meet with Father Tom and her.
Mrs. R. did her blowfish imitation. It’s not pretty.
Finally she said “Tanya Gans you put that…that…infant down and come with me right now. I am not going to waste any more of my time!”
I maintain that I didn’t do it on purpose. If my arm accidentally clenched around Timmy’s abdomen, it was a simple startle reflex from being spoken to in that tone of voice outside of school on a Sunday. Regardless, the results were the same. Timmy projectile vomited all over Mrs. R. It was glorious! She had baby puke fogging up her glasses and rolling down one side of her head and soaking into her blouse, dripping off her handbag. It was seriously one of the most effective projectiles Timmy has ever had. David wants to figure out a way to get Timmy to projectile into a container so he can measure the quantity. It’s a pity he missed this one….stellar performance Tim boy!
I didn’t know my parents had come in. I don’t know how much they heard, but I think my mom is finally figuring out that Mrs. R. really is gunning for me. Mrs. R. opened her mouth to say who knows what, but when she caught sight of my parents she high tailed it out of there. But she hissed (and I swear this is true – and Mrs. R. if you read this part, you know it is!) “You’ll pay for this, young lady.” I wish everyone would stop calling me that. We all know I’m not.
I didn’t realize that Mrs. R. would extract her revenge so hastily. That woman doesn’t sit on her judgement seat for long. Her revenge came in the form of sweet old, Father Tom. He came rushing up to us in the foyer as we were leaving and he shook my hand enthusiastically and said, “Tanya, ye’re a grand girl.” (He still has an Irish accent after 25 years here). “She’s a life saver, this one. I can’t believe what she’s offered to take on and all by herself too. I’ve always been impressed with this ‘un, but she has me speechless today, she does.” He told my parents.
Mom started giving me her ‘look’ and said, smiling at Father through clenched teeth, “What have you done now?” a question I seem to be getting asked a lot lately.
I honestly had no idea. But Father Tom filled us in. Apparently, I have agreed to oversee the entire production of the annual student Nativity Play held in the chapel every year just before school let’s out for the holidays.
“That was rather ambitious of you, Tanya.” Dad said through his own clenched teeth.
“You have no idea how ambitious, Dad.” I replied and then I turned to Father Tom, “Uh, Father who told you?”
“Why your principal of course. Such a lovely lady. And she’s offered to play the organ for the production just like she does every year.”
**Mrs. R. this means war. **
I hate that she is sitting at home smugly congratulating herself on winning the battle
I like that I am sitting at home smugly planning a counterattack: She may have won the battle I plan to win this war.
Mrs. R.’s Rules
1. Journal writing – voila!
2. Character flaw : too submissive: solution: tell Mrs. R. no!
3. Good deed: volunteered at Church Nursery ; cleaned up baby vomit on carpet.
Tanya
I think that Mrs. R. is spying on me.
You’d think I would be saved from seeing her because it’s Sunday. But, alas, that was not my fate. My heart broken yesterday, Mrs. R. is trying to break my will today. I won’t let her. Dad says Eventful is my middle name.
I have never run into Mrs. R. at church before. Suffice to say 5 days of Mrs. R. a week should be good enough for anyone – frankly, overkill for this girl. So I expect my weekends to be Mrs. R. free. In fact, I count on it. That’s what gets me through the next five days.
We go to the late mass – it’s got half an hour of music before hand and a funky priest and most of the congregation is made up of families – lots of kids. Most of the older people (like Mrs. R.) go to the earlier mass, which is pretty childfree. Think of the irony – the principal who can’t stand kids so much she has to get up at 6:00 in the morning on a Sunday just so she can go to a kid-free church service. The school board should investigate.
So today, I thought, was pretty much mapped out for me. I like one predictable day in the week. Church in the morning is the beginning of that predictability. So imagine my horror when the first person I saw as I walked into church was Mrs. R. She was just standing there, laying in wait, I’m sure. I would have run screaming from the church only Mom and Dad and David were right behind me.
Then, Mrs. R. looked right at me and beckoned. I’ll admit, I panicked. Who wouldn’t? I pretended not to notice. I looked everywhere but at her. Out of the corner of my eye I could tell she was still trying to get my attention. Pretty soon my parents would start to notice.
Normally I go in for the music portion and then I volunteer in the Nursery during the Service. This keeps me going to church, which pleases my parents, and keeps me out of mass, which pleases me. I also do a lot of networking for my babysitting business.
But Mrs. R. freaked me out so much that I didn’t stick around for the music but headed straight for the Nursery. It was Christmas Carols too – and I love Christmas Carols. Mom thought it was because I wasn’t feeling very well. I told her, I’d heard they were short staffed for that half-hour, so I would just go check it out. I had to sneak around by the kitchen and down the back stairs in order to avoid Mrs. R. at her post in the front,
Nursery really isn’t so bad. I’m the youngest who volunteers. I’ve been doing it since I was 12 – they’d never had a kid work before. They’re used to me now, and everyone gets along great, and the babies really like me. That’s one good thing about me. I’m really good with babies. So it works out for everyone….most of the time.
I just want to make one thing clear right now. It was positively, absolutely, indubitably NOT my fault. No one can even try to say it was; except Mrs. R. and she didn’t quite dare because my parents were there.
There’s a knack to getting a baby to burp. Some babies have to be pounded on their back really hard to produce the teeniest of burps. Others just have to be patted gently and give you a Beethoven’s fifth in melodious belches. Then there’s some that you just look at and they lose it. Timmy was one of those babies. Lots of the volunteers didn’t like to take care of him, but I’d caught onto the trick of dealing with Little Timmy Splatter. He has an unfortunate name – Timmy is a projectile vomiter.
Personally, if I had a baby who projectile vomited all the time, I wouldn’t feed him just before church. It’s a little insensitive to the volunteers. I’ve learned the intricacies of little Timmy, though and Mrs. Splatter knew she was leaving him in capable hands. Aside from being a projectiler, Timmy is quite a cute baby. And very good-natured.
So, rule #1 when dealing with babies like Timmy. Always have the baby facing out!!!! This is very important; can’t be emphasized enough. So I was holding little Timmy with his body turned out when Mrs. R. came storming into the nursery after me. She looked down her nose at me and said she had something she wanted to tell me in front of Father Tom. She said it was urgent and I should come with her now. The nerve! We were on my time now, and my turf. I bet she’d never set foot in the nursery before today. So, I told Mrs. R. politely, but pointedly that I was busy at the moment (as she could well see) and was sorry but it wasn’t possible for me to meet with Father Tom and her.
Mrs. R. did her blowfish imitation. It’s not pretty.
Finally she said “Tanya Gans you put that…that…infant down and come with me right now. I am not going to waste any more of my time!”
I maintain that I didn’t do it on purpose. If my arm accidentally clenched around Timmy’s abdomen, it was a simple startle reflex from being spoken to in that tone of voice outside of school on a Sunday. Regardless, the results were the same. Timmy projectile vomited all over Mrs. R. It was glorious! She had baby puke fogging up her glasses and rolling down one side of her head and soaking into her blouse, dripping off her handbag. It was seriously one of the most effective projectiles Timmy has ever had. David wants to figure out a way to get Timmy to projectile into a container so he can measure the quantity. It’s a pity he missed this one….stellar performance Tim boy!
I didn’t know my parents had come in. I don’t know how much they heard, but I think my mom is finally figuring out that Mrs. R. really is gunning for me. Mrs. R. opened her mouth to say who knows what, but when she caught sight of my parents she high tailed it out of there. But she hissed (and I swear this is true – and Mrs. R. if you read this part, you know it is!) “You’ll pay for this, young lady.” I wish everyone would stop calling me that. We all know I’m not.
I didn’t realize that Mrs. R. would extract her revenge so hastily. That woman doesn’t sit on her judgement seat for long. Her revenge came in the form of sweet old, Father Tom. He came rushing up to us in the foyer as we were leaving and he shook my hand enthusiastically and said, “Tanya, ye’re a grand girl.” (He still has an Irish accent after 25 years here). “She’s a life saver, this one. I can’t believe what she’s offered to take on and all by herself too. I’ve always been impressed with this ‘un, but she has me speechless today, she does.” He told my parents.
Mom started giving me her ‘look’ and said, smiling at Father through clenched teeth, “What have you done now?” a question I seem to be getting asked a lot lately.
I honestly had no idea. But Father Tom filled us in. Apparently, I have agreed to oversee the entire production of the annual student Nativity Play held in the chapel every year just before school let’s out for the holidays.
“That was rather ambitious of you, Tanya.” Dad said through his own clenched teeth.
“You have no idea how ambitious, Dad.” I replied and then I turned to Father Tom, “Uh, Father who told you?”
“Why your principal of course. Such a lovely lady. And she’s offered to play the organ for the production just like she does every year.”
**Mrs. R. this means war. **
I hate that she is sitting at home smugly congratulating herself on winning the battle
I like that I am sitting at home smugly planning a counterattack: She may have won the battle I plan to win this war.
Mrs. R.’s Rules
1. Journal writing – voila!
2. Character flaw : too submissive: solution: tell Mrs. R. no!
3. Good deed: volunteered at Church Nursery ; cleaned up baby vomit on carpet.
Tanya
Can I just say YUCK! But that was just too funny, Kav! Absolutely priceless...and something tells me that the war between Tanya and Mrs. R is far from over....
QUOTE
Think of the irony – the principal who can’t stand kids so much she has to get up at 6:00 in the morning on a Sunday just so she can go to a kid-free church service. The school board should investigate.
That started me laughing hysterically and I didn't stop until the end of the post. That was just like the rest of this story: incredibly awesome!
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