Read You Don't Sweat Much for a Fat Girl Online

Authors: Celia Rivenbark

You Don't Sweat Much for a Fat Girl (15 page)

BOOK: You Don't Sweat Much for a Fat Girl
2.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
Teen Angel
W
hile observing, Margaret Mead-style, the behaviors of the older siblings of Sophie’s friends, I realized they didn’t have any idea that, to me, they were simply Aéropostale-clothed canaries in the puberty coal mine—fluttering, daffy, and occasionally mean-as-hell canaries that would reveal the future of drama to come.
And now it’s here.
Not in a bad way, mostly, maybe just a four on the scale of one to “
OMG, you are such a creeper
!” shouted at some kid whose only crime was to sit just a little too close on the activity bus. At this tender age, everything is a tad ramped up, hyped, jazzed, and a few other moldy expressions from many decades ago.
Hormones are kicking in around here. What an odd twist
of nature that the Princess should be entering this phase of her life at the precise moment that I’m leaving it and pondering the indignity of chin tweezing.
But this is as it should be, and I’m not so old that I don’t recall, painfully well, what it was like to be thirteen.
The thing that has puzzled Duh and me in this new phase, as we watch the Princess navigate these never-still waters, is how fickle and fast-moving the relationships are between girl and girl and boy and girl. We have actually dropped her off at the movies with her friends only to hear that, by the time we pick them up, one boy in the group has texted another girl, the girl has responded, and now the original couple has “broken up” after being together, all in less than three hours.
Me: “Why is Paul walking with Sarah when his movie date was Katie?”
Princess: “Ohmigod, that was
hours
ago. Paul said that he and Katie are going to just be friends.”
Me: “But they were boyfriend/girlfriend just three hours ago. What could’ve possibly changed?”
Princess: “Well, Katie said that Paul was emotionally unavailable while they were getting popcorn and she just doesn’t think that she can put up with all the drama.”
Me: “What drama? The guy just wants to decide what flavor of frozen Coke he gets.”
Princess: “Yeah, but they kinda like other people, anyway.”
Me: “They found this out in the time it took to get their snacks and the opening credits to roll?”
Princess: (bored with this) “What? Yeah, I guess so. There’s no point in wasting time on a relationship when you know it’s not going to go anywhere.”
Me: “
But it was only sixteen minutes!
”
Part of me admires the brisk “cut your losses” mentality of the teen generation but, if this keeps up, marriage vows are going to be hugely problematic.
Minister: “ … to have and to hold from this day forward … .”
Couple (in unison): “Uhhhhhhhh … about that … .”
The phrase “going out” is eternally comical to us, which only irritates the Princess even more.
Princess: “Claire and Michael are going out! They are, like, perfect for each other. They are, like, the … best … couple … ever.”
Me: “What do you mean, going out? We used to call it going together or going steady.”
Princess: “Same thing, but we call it going out.”
Me: “But they don’t really go anywhere, do they? You said they were going out, but they’ve only just talked at school or on the phone, right? That hardly constitutes going out.”
Princess: (
Deep, impatient sigh
): “It doesn’t mean they’re going out somewhere. God! Do you always have to
make fun of the way I talk
?”
Me: “Well, I was just trying to understand.”
Princess: “Look, they’re going out. And they’ll be together tonight when we go to the movies, a bunch of us, if you’ll
drive us and give me twenty dollars for popcorn ’cause I need to buy some candy for Sophia to pay her back because she loaned me some money last time and she was, like, it’s really OK, I don’t mind lending it to you and I was, like, well, I hate to take your money because it’s really not, like, I have to have Gobstoppers but then she was, like, Oh, no, you have to take it, and I was like …”
Me: (
looking at grocery flier
) “Yay! There’s a BOGO on nondairy creamer this week!”
Princess:
Me: “OK, well, sure, if you owe someone money, you need to pay them back, but you should earn the money from doing chores around the house.”
Princess: “
It’s always all about the money! Oh my God
!”
Me: “OK, honey, let’s ratchet it down a few thousand notches, shall we? Go sweep the patio and you can earn some money toward the movie ticket.”
Princess:
Me: “Or you can stay home with Daddy and me and we’ll watch the
Andy Griffith Show
marathon and pop some corn. It’ll be just as much fun as being with your friends!”
Princess: “But I
have
to go! Everyone else is going! I will physically
die
if I don’t go!”
Uh-huh. Although I know I’m right about this, it’s not productive to point out that no one has ever died from
not
seeing a Johnny Depp movie on the night it opens.
After earning the movie money, there will much angst about What to Wear. Clothes will be pulled off hangers and out of drawers and heaped onto bed and floor before the inevitable wailing.
“I have no clothes,” she will say quietly and simply. “None at all. Not. One. Thing.”
At this point, I’ve learned it’s not a great idea to point out that, through different combinations and pairings, there are, mathematically speaking, at least 422 possible outfits littering her room, which now looks as though Anthropologie has had a terrible stomach ache and thrown up all over everything.
Cautiously, I pick up a pair of jeans and a cute top from Urban Outfitters. “What about this?”
The Princess gasps. “Oh! I didn’t even
see
that. Thanks, Mommie!”
Logic has no place in these occasional thunderstorm conversations which, as quickly as they arrive, drift out on a Clearasil sea, and she returns, rather like the adorable Regan in
The Exorcist
after an “episode,” with childlike playfulness and affection. Nope, I’m not going to have to summon two priests to the house. Yet.
I feel a little sorry for Duh because he is trapped between two females, both affected by occasional swings of hormonal havoc, and there’s really nothing he can do except excuse himself to go “oil the lawnmower,” which is unnecessary in January and smacks of snipe-hunting, if you ask me.
The boy/girl stuff is comical but the girl/girl stuff? Not so much. As any parent of a middle-school girl knows, it’s possible to be “besties” and “BFFs” with a girl on Wednesday and mortal enemies with her by Friday.
Happens all the time.
In fact, everything happens so much faster now because friends are recruited, courted, and dropped via text or Facebook in a matter of minutes.
I refrain from telling the Princess how it was back in the day when we simply relied on passed notes, which seldom made it to their destination but almost always ended up in the teacher’s hands. She would sigh at the note’s contents, look heavenward and tear it into confetti. No box would be checked “yes” or “no” on matters of utmost importance.
It hurts to be dropped by a friend, and hurts exponentially to be dropped by a pack of ’em. You don’t ever really forget that and, if it happens, it’s important to take inspiration from whatever role model can offer the most wisdom. In my case, it was a certain prom queen named Carrie.
In the Princess’ “posse,” there is constant drama, most of it exceedingly silly and, mercifully, patched up by the end of the day. In the meantime, however, there can be tears and recriminations worthy of a Telemundo soap opera.
Verdad
that.
Although the technology makes everything faster and more poorly spelled, nothing is really all that different than when I was thirteen.
“Ayden didn’t sit with me at lunch because she said that she heard that I said that she was sexting some eighth-grade guy that I don’t even know,” said a despondent Princess one day.
Sexting?
sexting
???????
I told myself to breathe deeply. What would Carrie do? No, I mean what would a rational, calm super parent do? Who can I channel for something this important? Who????”
Because I get most of my mad parenting skills from watching TV, I decided to use a multifaceted approach from some of the characters we’ve already discussed here.
Kate Gosselin: “Sexting? I believe I need this boy’s name and his parents’ phone number and I need it yesterday. Do I think he’d be willing to go on my talk show? Yes, I do. I hope so, anyway. It’s sweeps month and I need something besides complaining about how much I hate media attention. Somebody call my publicist.”
Oprah: “Sexting? Is that like the time Stedman emailed me to ask what I was wearing? Of course it turned out that was just so we wouldn’t clash on the red carpet … .”
Dr. Phil: “Sexting? How’s that workin’ for you? Huh? I don’t know, I just like asking that. I’m pretty much a doofus. Tennis?”
Betty Draper: “Sexting? Young lady, bring me the Lifebuoy this minute. Good. Now open your mouth and do not move until your father comes home. A week from Thursday.”
The Neelys: “Sexting? Mmmmm. That sounds naisty! We’re in!”
My go-to cast of characters was clearly not going to be any help. So I sat down and talked. I talked for a very long time, lovingly and calmly, about all the perils out there and how it will take a strong moral core to deal with them. Throughout, the Princess smiled and nodded and seemed to be taking it all in. Yes, I was parent of the year, brimming with warmth and wisdom.
And then, she flipped back her hair and I saw the little earbuds. She had been listening to her iPod the whole time!
Utterly defeated, I motioned to her to take out her earbuds.
“Did you hear anything I said?” I asked her, feeling incredibly foolish.
“Hmmm?” she asked, giving me an odd little grin. “Not a word.” I turned to leave and got all the way to the door before I heard her say, very softly, “And thanks.”
You Can’t Drink All Day If You Don’t Start in the Morning
Belle Weather
Stop Dressing Your Six-Year-Old Like a Skank
We’re Just Like You, Only Prettier
Bless Your Heart, Tramp
“Whether readers are from the south side of Baw-ston or living just south of the Mississippi, Rivenbark’s genuine Southern recipes and true Southern charm are sure to appeal to everyone.”
—
Encore Archives
 
“Many of her descriptions are not only LOL funny, they also demand reading aloud to whomever happens to be nearby.”
—
Myrtle Beach Sun-News
 
“Rivenbark is more than funny, she’s Carolina funny.”
—
The Charlotte Observer
“Her fans can also expect to enjoy her usual tangy style of humor … the book is what it is, and it’s all good.”
—
The Fayetteville Observer
 
 
Praise for
Belle Weather
“Readers will laugh out loud over her commentary on status mothers and all the odd obsessions of modern life.”
—
Booklist
 
“Think Dave Barry with a female point of view.”
—
USA Today
 
 
Praise for
Stop Dressing Your Six-Year-Old Like a Skank
“This is a hilarious read, perhaps best enjoyed while eating Krispy Kremes with a few girlfriends.”
—
Publishers Weekly
 
“She kills in the ‘Kids’ and ‘Southern-Style Silliness’ sections, putting the fear of Mickey into anyone planning a trip to Disney World (character breakfasts must be scheduled 90 days in advance) and extolling the entertainment value of obituaries (‘If there’s a nickname in quotes, say Red Eye, Tip Top, or simply, Zeke, then my entire day is made’).”
—
Entertainment Weekly
 
 
Praise for
We’re Just Like You, Only Prettier
“Will give you a case of the giggles.”
—New York
Daily News
 
“Warm, witty, and wise, rather like reading dispatches from a friend who uses e-mail and still writes letters, in ink, on good paper.”
—
St. Petersburg Times
 
 
Praise for
Bless Your Heart, Tramp
“Bright, witty, and warm … stories that make a desperate gift-giver weep glad tears of relief … a pleasing blend of spice, humor, and memories.”
—
St. Petersburg Times
 
“Celia Rivenbark has the goods and then some. She makes you laugh out loud dozens of times. Anyone who has the moxie to toss off a piece titled ‘Fake Dog Testicles’ will tread into the wildest stretches of comedic terrain.”
—
The State
(Columbia, S.C.)
BOOK: You Don't Sweat Much for a Fat Girl
2.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Never Never: Part Two (Never Never #2) by Colleen Hoover, Tarryn Fisher
Chasing Raven by Jayne Fresina
Banish Misfortune by Anne Stuart
Micah's Island by Copell, Shari
Alone In The Darkness by Matthew Buza
The Highlander's Triumph by Eliza Knight
Threat Warning by John Gilstrap