Читать книгу ‘Knocked out by my nunga-nungas.’ - Louise Rennison - Страница 60

Mutti came into my bedroom to get Libby out of my wardrobe. She’s made a sort of nest in there which she says is a “wee-wee house” – I think she means treehouse.

Over the shouting and biting I said to Mutti, “Do you think you could ask Dad if you and he could club together to let me have some money for breast reduction surgery?”

It took her about a year to stop laughing.

It’s pointless asking for money. I can’t get a fiver out of Dad for some decent lip gloss. He would never give me the money. Even if my breasts were so big that I had to have two servants called Carlos and Juan to carry them around for me.