Читать книгу ‘… then he ate my boy entrancers.’ - Louise Rennison - Страница 103

Grandad started fiddling about in his pockets.

“I’ve got something for you.”

Oh, joy unbounded. A boiled sweet.

I love him and everything, but why does he have to be so, you know…so…grandadish?

The TV was on, with my extremely unfit vati lolling around in front of it. As I sat down to try and get my tights away from Gordy, Vati said, “Now then, Georgia, why don’t you tell me how much spending money you expect for the holiday. Then we’ll have a good laugh and go from there.”

Vair vair amusing. Sadly though, I have to humour him. I said, “Well, it’s only for a week, isn’t it? And we’ve got the hotel rooms and food and so on, so actually, all in all, I think a thousand quid would just about cover it if I don’t buy anything extravagant.”

Mum said, “Don’t be silly, Georgia.”

Grandad said, “Do you remember when you took Georgia to the doctor’s surgery when she was a couple of weeks old?”

Mum ruffled my hair (very annoying) and looked all nostalgic. “I remember every single thing about your life, darling girl. You’ve been a pleasure and joy to me from the moment you were born.”

Dad said, “Bloody hell, Connie! Calm down.”

But Mum had gone off into Mumland, “Do you know you had no hair when you were born – all baldy, like Uncle Eddie. So sweet.”

Oh God.