Читать книгу ‘Knocked out by my nunga-nungas.’ - Louise Rennison - Страница 38

Mutti came into my room with a tray of sandwiches. I said, “Goosegot in Himmel, Mutti, have you gone mad? Food? For me? No, no, I’ll just have my usual bit of old sausage.”

She still kept smiling. It was a bit eerie actually. She was all dreamy. Wafting around in a see-through nightie. Good Lord.

“Are you having a nice time, Gee? It’s gorgeous here, isn’t it?”

I looked at her ironically.

She raved on. “It’s fun, though, isn’t it?”

“Mum, it’s the best fun I’ve had since … er … since Libby dropped my make-up into the loo.”

She tutted, but not even in her usual violent tutting way. Just like, nice tutting.

Even thought I started reading my Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff for Teens book she still kept raving on. About how great it was to be a “family” again. I wish she would cover herself up a bit more. Other people’s mothers wear nice elegant old people’s-wear and she just lets her basoomas and so on poke out willy-nilly. And they certainly do poke out willy-nilly; they are GIGANTIC.

She said, “We thought we might go to the pencil-making factory this afternoon.”

I didn’t even bother saying anything to that.

“It will be a laugh.”

“No it won’t. When did we last have a laugh as a family? Apart from when Grandad’s false teeth went down that woman’s bra?”