Читать книгу The Secret Life of Sally Tomato - Jean Ure, Stephen Lee, Jean Ure - Страница 9

C is for chuck

As in chuck up, or spew.

As in, “I’m going to chuck up

All over you.”

I only wrote that because my sister said to me this morning, “Throw up!”

I don’t know why she said it. I don’t know why she says a lot of the things that she says. She is a total mystery.

I realise too late that C could also be for cup sizes … I have learnt all about them! Stuart Sprague told us. Me and Bonesy. He did these drawings to illustrate.

Bonesy asked Stoo how he knew all of this, and Stoo tapped the side of his nose and closed one eye and said, “I know a whole lot of things. Specially about women … anything you want to know about women, you come to me!”

It is interesting, how people are gifted in different ways. Bones, for instance, is brilliant at woodwork, metal work, anything to do with making things. I am quite good at exams and stuff. But we are both dead ignorant when it comes to women. Even Bones, in spite of having pressed flesh with Nasreen Flynn. (Which actually was almost a year ago. He’s never done it since and he certainly didn’t know about cup sizes.) Stuart Sprague is Special Needs but he has this incredible wealth of erudition – meaning learning – that me and Bones have entirely missed out on. It really makes you think.

Now that I have been let into the mysteries of cup sizes I am finding it very difficult to stop myself staring at breasts and wondering what size they are. I wonder what size Lucy is? Maybe only an A at the moment, as she is not yet fully grown. But once she is … whew! I reckon it’ll be about a G or an H!

Do they make them that big???

The mind boggles!

On Monday we did figures of speech. I told Mr Mounsey my one, raining cats and dogs, and he said it was an excellent choice and did anyone happen to know the name for this particular type of phrase? At which old Harmony shoots her hand up and goes, “It’s a cliché!”

Mr Mounsey said “Well, yes that is certainly one name for it – cliché. Meaning worn out or hackneyed.”

I looked at Harmony with some annoyance. What a nerd!

Mr Mounsey then went on to tell us that as well as being a cliché, my figure of speech was also a metaphor.

“This is when one thing – the rain – is said to actually be another thing – cats and dogs.”

Kelvin Clegg immediately shouted out, “How can rain be cats and dogs?”

Kelvin Clegg is lower down the scale of evolution than an amoeba, but I think he actually had a point there. How can rain be cats and dogs?

You could tell that Mr Mounsey was at a bit of a loss. He went on about symbolism in a very vague sort of way. Just burbling, really. Obviously didn’t have the faintest idea. He was saved by the bell, as teachers often are. He said, “Yes, well! Why don’t you all go away and try thinking of other figures of speech that are metaphors?”

I have been trying to think of one but it is not easy at the moment as my mind is on other things. Well, when I say other things … what I mean is sex. What I mean is kissing. What I mean is … Lucy!

My hormones are positively seething.

I asked Dad last night when he started going with girls. He said, “So long ago I can’t even remember.”

I urged him to try. I know he is getting on and his memory may be going, but this sort of knowledge is very important to me. It is a vital part of my education.

“When did you first kiss a girl?”

“Oh, I can remember that!” chuckled Dad. “That was Jenny Libovitch. We were six years old.”

Blimey! I am definitely a late developer. I have a lot of catching up to do!