well have to find something else to do:
so everyone please look in their shoe!”
as each person took their own shoe out of the basket, there was a roar of laughter.
inside each shoe was a little ed package addressed to its owner.
yours, anne
dearest kitty,
a bad case of flu has prevented me from writing to you until today. being sick here is dreadful. with every cough, i had to duder the bla -- owice, three times -- and try to keep from coughing anymore.
most of the time the tickle refused to go away, so i had to drink milk with honey, sugar or cough drops. i get dizzy just thinking about all the cures ive been subjected to: sweating out the fever, steam treatment, wet presses, dry presses, hot drinks, swabbing my throat, lying still, heating pad, hot-water bottles, lemonade and, every two hours, the thermometer. will these remedies really make you better? the worst part was when mr. dussel decided to play doctor and lay his pomaded head on my bare chest to listen to the sounds. not only did his hair tickle, but i was embarrassed, even though he went to school thirty years ago and does have some kind of medical degree. why should he lay his head on my heart? after all, hes not my
boyfriend! for that matter, he wouldnt be able to tell a healthy sound from an uhy one.
hed have to have his ears ed first,
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