THEME: #11 ~ Racecar
Howie isn't fond of gatherings. An entire day is wasted watching his mother run around the house with her hair in curlers, seeing salad being baked and chicken being tossed, ignoring Willa Jean muss dress after dress, and accompanying his father in front of the television to not really help with anything.
It seems obvious to him that his parents lead very dull lives.
He says so to Jimmy Wilson, their hair slicked back and bodies shoved into dinner jackets. He has to raise his voice to be heard over the grown-ups' chatter.
Jimmy nods gravely. "That's why we go on lotsa vacations. My dad always complains about a 'mortgage,' though."
Howie pretends to know what that is. "When I grow up," he says, "I won't invite anyone over, ever."
"I'm going to be a movie star," Jimmy says. "So I might have to."
He nods sympathetically. "I'll be a builder. Or a racecar driver. Then I can drive away when I don't want anybody around."
"Anybody?"
He smothers a sigh and exchanges a look with Jimmy.
"Anybody?" Ramona repeats, prodding at Howie.
"Yes," he says, dodging her hand. "That's why I'm going to drive a racecar."
She studies him thoughtfully. "I'm going to be a dancer-singer-actress. People will always want my autograph and love my parties."
Jimmy snorts loudly. "There's no such thing."
"Is too!" she insists. "My daddy even says I'm already melodramatic."
Neither of them knows what it means, but Jimmy looks impressed. "People say I'm precocious," Howie says.
"But I'm obnoxious. It's a longer word," Ramona counters beamingly.
This annoys him greatly. "Is not." But he isn't sure.
"Spell them, then," Ramona taunts, at the exact moment that Willa Jean knocks over a vase and starts howling.
He wishes now, more than ever, for that racecar.
this is obviously meant to take place when both Ramona and Howie are quite young, which meant it was a lot of fun for me to write XD
let me know what you think?