From the Author
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
TUESDAY, January 20 Didn't even get a chance to sit down before Miss Lindstrom marched up to my desk and demanded to see my paper. Here is what I wrote: I wish my mother was not a chronic alcoholic and drug addict, although to be fair, she only smokes pot now instead of doing heroin. That makes her much easier to be around. Also, she doesn't beat up my father as often. Of course, I'm not supposed to talk about any of this outside the house. Betty, Mom's parole officer, says we are one of the most dysfunctional families she's ever met. Her biggest worry right now is Todd, my older brother, who I totally adore, because he insists on going through with his sex-change operation. He is very brave. At the moment, he is practicing by wearing girls' underwear that he buys from Target. As far as I know, no one at his high falutin' school (NOT Edgar Rice Burroughs) really knows how messed up he is. He is the most tragic of our dysfunctional family members. He is also in, like, total denial. Lucy, my nine-year-old sister is not as messed up, because now that she is too tall to sleep in the drawer and doesn't get dropped on her head so often, she is much more normal. Although I suspect she has an imaginary friend. Actually, I think there's a whole bunch of them but she doesn't like to talk about it. Please do not show any of this to Sister Mary Arthur as these are all closely guarded family secrets. If I tell anyone, my mother will send me back to the cage in our basement. The only good thing we have going for us is that we know how to look real good in public, especially at Mass on Sundays, so at least we don't have the public embarrassment of the whole parish knowing how messed up we really are. I have problems too, but I'm sure you can understand why, now that you know the truth. THE END
WEDNESDAY, January 21 Soon as I arrived at school, Miss Spitzmeyer called me down to her counseling office. Wasn't smiling her usual understanding smile. Immediately got suspicious. She motioned for me to sit down, then pulled out the stupid behavioral checksheets about my behavior she'd been working on. She pointed to number thirty-seven and said, "Tells lies, bends the truth, makes up stories, exaggerates? Do you recall a certain Language Arts assignment you recently wrote about your supposedly dysfunctional family?" I tried to grin, but I knew it was lame. "Uh...I thought it was a creative writing assignment." "Good try, Eddie. Miss Lindstrom was quite upset. I was able to calm her down before she showed it to Sister Mary Arthur. Don't you realize you're on your last legs here?" Wanted to ask her about her own legs (they're still real hairy), or at least tell her about my Gillette Company nightmare the other night, but all I said was, "Okay, I know it wasn't, but it was fun to write." "I'm glad you find yourself so entertaining. When is your next counseling appointment with Dr. Tingleworth?" "Uh...tomorrow, I think. Why?" "Because the sooner we get you in treatment, the better. Meanwhile, you'd better act like a perfect student, otherwise Sister Mary Arthur will expel you." "Perfect? Sorry, that's Todd's department, not mine." "Oh, yes, your transvestite brother. Listen, you need to keep your head down and your mouth shut tight. If you can't do it for yourself, Eddie, do it for me, okay?" How could I refuse such a sincere request from my Favorite Bleeding Heart Liberal?
