Zippy

My friend, Heather, lent me the most entertaining book I have read since Bill Bryson. A Girl Named Zippy: Growing up Small in Mooreland, Indiana. It is hilarious. I just want to share a few sentences with you.

"When it became completely impossible for me to live without a pet chicken, my dad took me out to Tinker Jones's, where there was fowl of every variety. . . I opened her box with no chicken-taming technique at my disposal, just my utter good will. I don't remember what actually transpired between us, but by the time we got home and Dad opened the tailgate, Speckles was sitting on my shoulder, and if I made kissing sounds at her she turned and pecked me lightly on the lips."

"I was convinced Edythe ate puuppy stew in order to give her the strength to put spells on people."

In response to a derogatory remark about their cat, PeeDink, Zippy said "Oh, yeah? Well, how about this: he once got locked in a basement by evil Petey Scroggs in the middle of January and survived on snow and little frozen mice. When I'm cold at night he sleeps right on my face. Of that whole litter of kittens he came out of he's the only one left. One of his brothers didn't even have a butthole."

Talking about the picture of Jesus in the church she attended: "the Big Jesus looks pensive and honey-eyed. His shoulder-length, light-brown hair is as clean and shiny as corn silk, and he has a beautiful tan. He is not scorched like a farmer, but bronzed, like a lifeguard. He is way better looking than either Glen Campbell or Englebert Humperdinck. I wanted him to be my boyfriend."

I recommend it to absolutely everyone. Thank you Heather for bringing some laughing-out-loud entertainment into our cave-like apartment.