sigh. “Nothing
happened
,” I say. “I was just wondering.”
Rainy mornings do that to me.
But if Mom takes my rainy morning question in a bad way, she will probably call Dad on his cell.And even if he were busy talking to an actual space alien who’d hitched a ride to Earth on that Arizona meteorite, he would take her call.
And then the uproar would begin—like it did a couple of months ago. That’s when Alfie told Mom and me that she was feeling mad at Suzette Monahan, her friend-enemy at Kreative Learning and Playtime Day Care. And yes, we know they spelled “creative” wrong.
It turns out that Suzette was secretly charging other girls a penny to touch Alfie’s hair, just because it’s different from theirs.
WHOA . Get back!
Like Alfie was part of a petting zoo!
Alfie’s moral of the story was that
she
should have gotten all those pennies. But I told her she had other reasons to be mad about what happened. I said that her hair was her own private property, and those girls should just keep their hands to themselves.
And to tell her teachers if it happened again.
But Mom told Dad, and Dad called the day-care ladies.
After four phone calls and one parents’ meeting, the grownups decided to call the whole thing a misunderstanding.
“Everyone moved on,”
was the way Mom put it.
But I think my dad “moves on” slower than other people.
I just don’t want the prickly-dad-uproar thing to happen again, that’s all. You can’t be a blend-in guy—my main goal in life!—if you’re at the center of a tornado.
“Why did we move to Oak Glen,” Mom says, repeating my original question. “Well, as you know, we were living in San Diego when you were little, honey,” she says. “And we needed a bigger house after Miss Alfie came along.”
“I know the living-in-San-Diego part,” I say.
“So we were looking and looking for a new place, but it was a tough search,” Mom continues. “You had just started kindergarten, EllRay. But one weekend, we decided to take a break and head up to Julian, to enjoy some of their apple pie.”
Julian is a pretty mountain town with famous apples that is halfway between Oak Glen and Anza-BorregoDesert State Park, a really cool area our family loves, especially Dad and me. It’s our special place. Anza-Borrego has everything!
1. An oasis.
2. Bighorn sheep.
3. A badlands.
4. Mud caves.
5. Lots of earthquake faults, and you can even see where some of them split the rocks.
It’s
awesome
.
“We stopped in Oak Glen on our way home,” Mom says, remembering. “For gas, I think it was. And your dad really liked the way the place looked, so we popped into a real estate office before heading back down to San Diego.”
I try to picture this, but it’s hard to think of dad “popping into” any place. He’s the type of guy who likes to think things through—mostly until you don’t even feel like doing them anymore.
“I know, I know,” Mom says, laughing as if she’s just read my mind. “But you have to understand this about your father, EllRay. He can act on impulsewhen the spirit moves him. And once he realized how much bigger a house and yard we could afford in Oak Glen, and how good the schools were, he was sold.”
“But what about you?” I ask, sneaking a look at my mom.
“I just wanted our search to be over, at that point,” she says, still laughing. “I liked Oak Glen. And your dad promised he wouldn’t mind the commute. He listens to audio books,” she adds, sounding a little jealous.
“But you guys didn’t know anyone here,” I point out.
“We don’t have family in San Diego anymore, either,” Mom reminds me. “Of course, I missed my old hair salon so much that I finally decided to keep driving down to the city for my appointments. And I knew I’d miss my old Balboa Park writing group, but I have to admit that I’ve gotten a lot more actual work done since we moved. Fewer meetings, more writing.”
“But didn’t it bother
happened
,” I say. “I was just wondering.”
Rainy mornings do that to me.
But if Mom takes my rainy morning question in a bad way, she will probably call Dad on his cell.And even if he were busy talking to an actual space alien who’d hitched a ride to Earth on that Arizona meteorite, he would take her call.
And then the uproar would begin—like it did a couple of months ago. That’s when Alfie told Mom and me that she was feeling mad at Suzette Monahan, her friend-enemy at Kreative Learning and Playtime Day Care. And yes, we know they spelled “creative” wrong.
It turns out that Suzette was secretly charging other girls a penny to touch Alfie’s hair, just because it’s different from theirs.
WHOA . Get back!
Like Alfie was part of a petting zoo!
Alfie’s moral of the story was that
she
should have gotten all those pennies. But I told her she had other reasons to be mad about what happened. I said that her hair was her own private property, and those girls should just keep their hands to themselves.
And to tell her teachers if it happened again.
But Mom told Dad, and Dad called the day-care ladies.
After four phone calls and one parents’ meeting, the grownups decided to call the whole thing a misunderstanding.
“Everyone moved on,”
was the way Mom put it.
But I think my dad “moves on” slower than other people.
I just don’t want the prickly-dad-uproar thing to happen again, that’s all. You can’t be a blend-in guy—my main goal in life!—if you’re at the center of a tornado.
“Why did we move to Oak Glen,” Mom says, repeating my original question. “Well, as you know, we were living in San Diego when you were little, honey,” she says. “And we needed a bigger house after Miss Alfie came along.”
“I know the living-in-San-Diego part,” I say.
“So we were looking and looking for a new place, but it was a tough search,” Mom continues. “You had just started kindergarten, EllRay. But one weekend, we decided to take a break and head up to Julian, to enjoy some of their apple pie.”
Julian is a pretty mountain town with famous apples that is halfway between Oak Glen and Anza-BorregoDesert State Park, a really cool area our family loves, especially Dad and me. It’s our special place. Anza-Borrego has everything!
1. An oasis.
2. Bighorn sheep.
3. A badlands.
4. Mud caves.
5. Lots of earthquake faults, and you can even see where some of them split the rocks.
It’s
awesome
.
“We stopped in Oak Glen on our way home,” Mom says, remembering. “For gas, I think it was. And your dad really liked the way the place looked, so we popped into a real estate office before heading back down to San Diego.”
I try to picture this, but it’s hard to think of dad “popping into” any place. He’s the type of guy who likes to think things through—mostly until you don’t even feel like doing them anymore.
“I know, I know,” Mom says, laughing as if she’s just read my mind. “But you have to understand this about your father, EllRay. He can act on impulsewhen the spirit moves him. And once he realized how much bigger a house and yard we could afford in Oak Glen, and how good the schools were, he was sold.”
“But what about you?” I ask, sneaking a look at my mom.
“I just wanted our search to be over, at that point,” she says, still laughing. “I liked Oak Glen. And your dad promised he wouldn’t mind the commute. He listens to audio books,” she adds, sounding a little jealous.
“But you guys didn’t know anyone here,” I point out.
“We don’t have family in San Diego anymore, either,” Mom reminds me. “Of course, I missed my old hair salon so much that I finally decided to keep driving down to the city for my appointments. And I knew I’d miss my old Balboa Park writing group, but I have to admit that I’ve gotten a lot more actual work done since we moved. Fewer meetings, more writing.”
“But didn’t it bother
Similar Books
