stuff.
‘Well, you were. How else am I to monitor your progress? Now, strip down to your pants and we’ll take those measurements.’
DONUT COUNT:
Can you blame me?
Saturday 23 September
MY MUM HAD to go into work today, even though it’s the weekend, so Dad took us swimming. I’m actually pretty good – I can beat Ruby and Ella at the crawl. But that’s probably because vampires like Ella are water-soluble, and Ruby spends all her time checking out the boys and convincing herself that they are checking her out right back.
As Ella was swimming along, her hair dye and mascara and stuff dissolved, leaving a long black stain in the water.
Ruby was wearing a pink swimming costume that you could see from space. The best part was when she was doing sidestroke so she could look at this muscly kid on the high board, and so she didn’t notice a manky plaster that was floating in the water and she sucked it into her mouth and choked on it and then ran into the changing rooms going ‘ Aaaarrrrrgggghhhhhh aaaarrrrrgggghhhhhh aaaarrrrrgggghhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!! ’ with everyone staring at her and thinking she was a nutcase, which was brilliant, really.
Dad’s not a bad swimmer either, which you wouldn’t really expect from a guy who spends most of his time in the toilet. Or maybe that’s exactly what you should expect? When he gets in the water he changes from my not-much-use-at-anything dad to a different dad – a dad who’s good at something, i.e. swimming. He can even do the butterfly, which is a swimming stroke invented by the Nazis to torture their prisoners.
Afterwards, I was famished – like you always are after swimming. I gave Dad one of my pleading donut looks, but he said we were going to try something new.
The new thing turned out to be sushi. Yeah, that’s right, raw – and I mean totally raw – fish, wrapped up in cold rice. Yum yum. (That’s a sarcastic yum yum, by the way.) What kind of madman invented that? We all complained about it, but Dad insisted we at least try it. It probably helped that they were having a half-price promotion at the sushi bar. My dad finds it hard to buy anything that isn’t on special offer.
So we sat there not hoping for much and a nice Japanese lady came and brought us green tea that tasted of nothing at all (which I’d count as a result, as green tea sounds like it ought to taste of hot snot). And then the sushi came. It looked quite OK, so I tried a bit. Then I tried a bit more. Dad told me to eat it with some of the slivers of ginger and a tiny bit of some stuff that looked like green toothpaste but which turned out to be the hottest, spiciest substance ever invented, and is probably radioactive. But when it’s all in your mouth, it tastes amazing.
For pudding we had these weird little Japanese donuts with sesame seeds on top. Not a real donut, but better than no donut at all.
Not a bad day at all, really.
DONUT COUNT:
(if we’re counting the sushi donuts)
Sunday 24 September
ANOTHER NICE DAY . With one exception. Me and Jim went and chucked stones in the canal. That might not seem very interesting to you, but sitting with your back against the wall lobbing stones into the water and hearing the lovely round ‘plop’ is surprisingly satisfying, especially when it isn’t peeing down with rain.
I told Jim about some of the rubbish things that were happening at St Michael’s, but I said it in a way that turned it into a joke, and that made me feel a bit better about it all.
He told me that things weren’t that great at Seabrook High, which also helped to cheer me up, because hearing about other people’s troubles is always nice. Apparently there was some psycho kid called Garry Martin who’d decided he hated Jim and was going to batter him after school one day. But Jim said his big brother, Chaz, was going to give Garry Martin a ‘Chaz Special’. This involved Chaz kneeling on your chest and dribbling drool down onto your face. He thought that
‘Well, you were. How else am I to monitor your progress? Now, strip down to your pants and we’ll take those measurements.’
DONUT COUNT:
Can you blame me?
Saturday 23 September
MY MUM HAD to go into work today, even though it’s the weekend, so Dad took us swimming. I’m actually pretty good – I can beat Ruby and Ella at the crawl. But that’s probably because vampires like Ella are water-soluble, and Ruby spends all her time checking out the boys and convincing herself that they are checking her out right back.
As Ella was swimming along, her hair dye and mascara and stuff dissolved, leaving a long black stain in the water.
Ruby was wearing a pink swimming costume that you could see from space. The best part was when she was doing sidestroke so she could look at this muscly kid on the high board, and so she didn’t notice a manky plaster that was floating in the water and she sucked it into her mouth and choked on it and then ran into the changing rooms going ‘ Aaaarrrrrgggghhhhhh aaaarrrrrgggghhhhhh aaaarrrrrgggghhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!! ’ with everyone staring at her and thinking she was a nutcase, which was brilliant, really.
Dad’s not a bad swimmer either, which you wouldn’t really expect from a guy who spends most of his time in the toilet. Or maybe that’s exactly what you should expect? When he gets in the water he changes from my not-much-use-at-anything dad to a different dad – a dad who’s good at something, i.e. swimming. He can even do the butterfly, which is a swimming stroke invented by the Nazis to torture their prisoners.
Afterwards, I was famished – like you always are after swimming. I gave Dad one of my pleading donut looks, but he said we were going to try something new.
The new thing turned out to be sushi. Yeah, that’s right, raw – and I mean totally raw – fish, wrapped up in cold rice. Yum yum. (That’s a sarcastic yum yum, by the way.) What kind of madman invented that? We all complained about it, but Dad insisted we at least try it. It probably helped that they were having a half-price promotion at the sushi bar. My dad finds it hard to buy anything that isn’t on special offer.
So we sat there not hoping for much and a nice Japanese lady came and brought us green tea that tasted of nothing at all (which I’d count as a result, as green tea sounds like it ought to taste of hot snot). And then the sushi came. It looked quite OK, so I tried a bit. Then I tried a bit more. Dad told me to eat it with some of the slivers of ginger and a tiny bit of some stuff that looked like green toothpaste but which turned out to be the hottest, spiciest substance ever invented, and is probably radioactive. But when it’s all in your mouth, it tastes amazing.
For pudding we had these weird little Japanese donuts with sesame seeds on top. Not a real donut, but better than no donut at all.
Not a bad day at all, really.
DONUT COUNT:
(if we’re counting the sushi donuts)
Sunday 24 September
ANOTHER NICE DAY . With one exception. Me and Jim went and chucked stones in the canal. That might not seem very interesting to you, but sitting with your back against the wall lobbing stones into the water and hearing the lovely round ‘plop’ is surprisingly satisfying, especially when it isn’t peeing down with rain.
I told Jim about some of the rubbish things that were happening at St Michael’s, but I said it in a way that turned it into a joke, and that made me feel a bit better about it all.
He told me that things weren’t that great at Seabrook High, which also helped to cheer me up, because hearing about other people’s troubles is always nice. Apparently there was some psycho kid called Garry Martin who’d decided he hated Jim and was going to batter him after school one day. But Jim said his big brother, Chaz, was going to give Garry Martin a ‘Chaz Special’. This involved Chaz kneeling on your chest and dribbling drool down onto your face. He thought that
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