Ramona and Her Mother

All her life she had wanted to squeeze the toothpaste really squeeze it,not just one little squirt...The paste coiled and swirled and mounded in the washbasin. Ramona decorated the mound with toothpaste roses as if it was a toothpaste birthday cake

Her mother had said the words she longed to hear. Her mother could not get along without her. She felt warm, and safe and comforted.

Haven't you noticed grown-ups aren't perfect?" asked Mrs. Quimby. "Especially when they're tired." "Then how come you expect kids to be so perfect all the time?" demanded Ramona.

How can there be no such word as can't? Ramona wondered. Mrs. Rudge had just said can't. If there was so such word as can't then Mrs. Rudge could not have said there was no such word as can't. Therefore, what Mrs. Rudge said could not be true.

Besides, why wasn’t the top of the bottle screwed on tight? Because some grown-up had not screwed it on, that’s why. Children weren’t the only people who did things wrong.

Grown-ups are supposed to be perfect." Both her parents laughed. "Well, they are!" Ramona insisted, annoyed by their laughter.

Maybe grown-ups weren't perfect, but they should be, her parents most of all. They should be cheerful, loving, patient, never sick and never tired. Fun too.

She felt all churned up inside, as if she didn't know whether to cry or burst out of the house shouting, My mother and father had a fight!

Scrimp and pinch to make ends meet, thought Ramona, liking the sound of the words.

Her age was difficult too- not old enough to sit down with her mother and sew something she wanted to sew and too old to go pulling out a whole box of Kleenex and flinging it all over the house like Willa Jean. People should not think being seven-and-a-half was easy because it wasn't

Nobody had to tell Ramona life was full of disappointments. She already knew.

Ramona understood what Beezus meant, because she felt sad too, and her stomach felt tight when her father came home tired and discouraged after a day in the checkout line. People were in a hurry, many were cross because the line was long, and some customers acted as if he were to blame because prices were so high.

She didn't have to go and tell that, thought Ramona, feeling that her mother had betrayed her by telling, as if it were funny, something she had done a long time ago.

Then she decided her mother had not really guessed because she often asked where the fire was when Ramona was in a hurry.

But maybe when he has worked at ShopRite longer, he will like it better. New jobs take getting used to.

were poking a little fun at Ramona. “Yes, ma’am!” said her father, and saluted as if she were somebody important. This time Ramona had to laugh.

Willa Jean, pleased to have her grandmother on her side, set a red checker on top of a black checker. “Your turn,” she said to Ramona as if she were being generous.

couldn’t get along without my Ramona,” said Ramona’s mother. She held out her arms. Ramona ran into them. Her mother had said the words she had longed to hear. Her mother could not get along without her. She felt warm and safe and comforted and oh, how good her mother smelled, so clean and sweet like flowers. Better than any mother in the whole world. Ramona’s tears dampened her mother’s blouse. After a moment Mrs. Quimby handed Ramona a Kleenex. When Ramona had wiped her eyes and nose, she was surprised to discover that her mother had tears in her eyes, too. “Mama,” said Ramona, using a word she had given up as babyish, “why did you do that?

I simply cannot put up with Ramona another day.

As Ramona sat letting these thoughts slide through her mind, the telephone rang in the kitchen.

Conversation from the living room was boring, all