Autobiography of a Fat Bride by Notaro Laurie

Autobiography of a Fat Bride by Notaro Laurie

Author:Notaro, Laurie [Notaro, Laurie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 9780375760921
Google: qtDrBhE20f0C
Amazon: B000FBFO6E
Publisher: Villard
Published: 2003-07-08T05:00:00+00:00


Spooky Little Girl Like You

I AM TELLING YOU FOR THE LAST TIME,” my mother yelled from the living room, “there are NO SUCH things as ghosts. Now go back to bed before I take all of your friends home!”

I shuffled back to my bedroom, where my friends were waiting, and knew it was my own fault. We should have known better than to have a séance on Halloween, even if it was my birthday and I was having a slumber party.

Lots of people think it would be cool to have a birthday on Halloween, but it really isn’t. Who would want to come to my house to play “Pin the Grin on the Pumpkin” when there were blocks of houses giving away free candy? Who was going to come to my house for a lousy piece of cake from Safeway when Milky Ways and Hershey bars were literally floating down the street?

As a result, only two of my fifth-grade classmates showed up at my house in costume on that Saturday night, out of the seven I had invited. My mom bought us pizza, then got all of us—my friends and my two younger sisters—ready for the annual trek down the street for the trick-or-treating bonanza. Since there were five of us, I had secretly hoped that we could all don white polyester gowns and go as Sister Sledge, belting out the chorus to “WE ARE FAMI-LEEE!” whenever anyone opened his door, but my mother shot me a look and put her hands on her hips.

“No, we are not doing that,” she said sternly. “If you think I have time to stand here and braid all of your heads into cornfields, you’ve got another think coming!”

My friend Jamie came to my party as a witch anyway, and my other friend, Kassie, came in a rhinestone-cowboy outfit, mainly because her father owned horses and she rode in competitions. Since I had bet all of my options on the Sister Sledge theme, I had to come up with something quick, or my mom would throw a Hefty bag over my head and make me go as trash.

“What am I going to be?” I whined, going through my closet.

My mother grabbed a pencil and a spiral notebook and handed it to me. “Just be Anne Frank again,” she said as I sulked.

“I was Anne Frank last year!” I whined.

“It’s Anne Frank or the trash bag,” my mother offered. “That little girl stayed in the attic for a long time; you can be her for two years in a row!”

My mom stood close by us as we went trick-or-treating from house to house, smoking a cigarette near the curb as we knocked on each door.

“Let me see your candy,” she demanded after every treat. “That woman’s a nutjob. Did she try to give you an apple? Did her house smell funny?”

When we returned to our own house, my mother cut the cake and I opened presents. I got a can of Love’s Baby Soft, a



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